Texty: Armchair Martian. Meldrum Attic.

Do you think i should do with this corpse
at night it sits and stares at me, and neither show remorse
make a secret silent enough, they can hardly wait to find you
all the ones you left behind never go away

well i can't sleep
too much aggression, adrenaline runs through my veins
we won't stop smashing lawn furniture, bikes, now a tv
i know where it comes from it's coming from me
the sum of our parts take control of what we can be
on fire, we are mad with desire to smash and destroy
endless, endless it seems
it seems we'll always be friends, be friends
it all depends on who you turn to in the end

what would you do, if i told you i am not myself
empty space inside that street, created something else
the corpse i keep him handcuffed till the shadow stares at me alone
every time i let him out, i don't know if i can bring him home
now i sleep
it's all depression, the THC flows through my veins
self-control, at what price can you sacrifice
part of your soul
i know where i come from, i know where i've been
it's time for me to own up to all of my sins
making monsters to fight your demons
what if you create won't leave us
carry that weight around till you bury that corpse, of course
blame it on the course
don't ever ever let them set the course
don't ever ever let them set the course again