Texty: Floater. Luddite.

(Old machinery hissing)

Wind up the ancient machine, yah until you break it.
Hold on for the time of your life, yah you'll learn to fake it,
and you got you brand new disease, yah you've got your shiny car.
You live your life on your knees, yah they tell you who you are
that's why you know it's true.
You know it's true.

I've been holding on for a reaction.
It's the same thing every day.
All of my tiny distractions,
they come and take my life away.

Oh Yah

And the whispering of the wise never entertains the fools,
and the art of compromise,
is now the only one they teach in schools.

How quickly all our seasons go.
How slowly we learn who we are.
We trade our lives for baggage,
until the weight of it all buries you under.

Wind up the ancient machine, yah, until you break it
Know the fruit must come from the seed, yah, but try to fake it.
And they sell you a brand new disease. They sell you a shiny car.
Oh, you live your life on your knees. Yah they tell you who you are
that's why you know it's true.
Yah you know it's true

I've been holding on for a reaction,
but it's the same thing everyday.
All of my million distractions
They come and take my life away.

Oh Yah

The whispering of the wise never entertains the fools.

And the art of compromise
Pays for all their swimming pools

How quickly all our seasons go.
How slowly we learn who we are.
We trade our lives for baggage.
Until the weight of it all just breaks your fucking balls!

Yah

They say that to the grave the soul is all you take
So don't make this mistake of trading it in for a trinket.

Oh I guess you just gave it up,
Oh this fucking modern life!
Nowadays there's something to be said
for a quitter!

(thudding noises)