Scarsick
Sick!
It's all sick! I feel sick
I'll be sick, then it's fine
I'll conform to your norm with a bucket full of me
I'll be free
Finally I will see what you mean with your freedom
This world you call home
Not alone, happy drone
Won't be sick of these cars
All these codes, and these bars
All these sickening scars
I'll believe in the way of the stripes and the superstars
I will fall in line and obey
'Cause the price is so small
Almost nothing at all if I'm just losing me
Then the ideals and truths will follow naturally
Happily I will settle for your conformative apathy
If I could just get rid of this unsettling, uncomfortable
Unbendable bucket of insight and honesty
This sick, sick, sick bucket of reality
But you see; this sick will stick!
'Cause it's me!
It's me!
Step into the dark age of treason
Today the only voice of reason
Would have to be the sound
Of the soup of the season hitting ground
Hitting ground
Step into the dark age of treason
Today the only voice of reason
Would have to be the sound
Of the soup of the season hitting ground
Hitting ground
Sick!
Sick!
Sick!
Feeling sickened by this fucking travesty
Is just a sign of sanity
You're not alone
And every time that you hurt
Every cut, every scar
And every time you just hate
Everything that you are
It is simply the instinct to flee
To escape from this mess
This continuous rape of what's true and what's real
So you gnaw at your paw to get out of the trap
Of the cage, of our time
All that rage is your struggle to survive
They think you wanna die when in truth you just strive
Biting every hand just to stay alive
But can you hear that sound
In your ear, growing louder and louder?
The whole world around you
A pounding and grinding
That tells you that you're not alone
It's the sound of thousands and thousands
Of vixen teeth hitting bone
Hitting bone!
Step into the dark age of treason
Today the only voice of reason
Would have to be the sound
Of the soup of the season
Hitting ground
Hitting ground
Ah, ah
Step into the dark age of treason
Today the only voice of reason
Would have to be the sound
Of the soup of the season
Hitting ground
Hitting ground!
Hi- hi- hitting ground
Ah!
Hitting ground!
Ground!
Sick!
I feel sick!
Sick!
Of these bars and these cars
I feel sick!
Sick!
I feel sick!
I feel sick!
You are making me sick!
So sick!
Sick!
You are making me sick!
Sick!
It's all sick!
We're all sick!
You are making me sick!
Soup of the season
Hitting ground
It's all sick! I feel sick
I'll be sick, then it's fine
I'll conform to your norm with a bucket full of me
I'll be free
Finally I will see what you mean with your freedom
This world you call home
Not alone, happy drone
Won't be sick of these cars
All these codes, and these bars
All these sickening scars
I'll believe in the way of the stripes and the superstars
I will fall in line and obey
'Cause the price is so small
Almost nothing at all if I'm just losing me
Then the ideals and truths will follow naturally
Happily I will settle for your conformative apathy
If I could just get rid of this unsettling, uncomfortable
Unbendable bucket of insight and honesty
This sick, sick, sick bucket of reality
But you see; this sick will stick!
'Cause it's me!
It's me!
Step into the dark age of treason
Today the only voice of reason
Would have to be the sound
Of the soup of the season hitting ground
Hitting ground
Step into the dark age of treason
Today the only voice of reason
Would have to be the sound
Of the soup of the season hitting ground
Hitting ground
Sick!
Sick!
Sick!
Feeling sickened by this fucking travesty
Is just a sign of sanity
You're not alone
And every time that you hurt
Every cut, every scar
And every time you just hate
Everything that you are
It is simply the instinct to flee
To escape from this mess
This continuous rape of what's true and what's real
So you gnaw at your paw to get out of the trap
Of the cage, of our time
All that rage is your struggle to survive
They think you wanna die when in truth you just strive
Biting every hand just to stay alive
But can you hear that sound
In your ear, growing louder and louder?
The whole world around you
A pounding and grinding
That tells you that you're not alone
It's the sound of thousands and thousands
Of vixen teeth hitting bone
Hitting bone!
Step into the dark age of treason
Today the only voice of reason
Would have to be the sound
Of the soup of the season
Hitting ground
Hitting ground
Ah, ah
Step into the dark age of treason
Today the only voice of reason
Would have to be the sound
Of the soup of the season
Hitting ground
Hitting ground!
Hi- hi- hitting ground
Ah!
Hitting ground!
Ground!
Sick!
I feel sick!
Sick!
Of these bars and these cars
I feel sick!
Sick!
I feel sick!
I feel sick!
You are making me sick!
So sick!
Sick!
You are making me sick!
Sick!
It's all sick!
We're all sick!
You are making me sick!
Soup of the season
Hitting ground
Credits
Writer(s): Daniel Gildenloew
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.