Where there's a will, there's a way.
Its occupation has me pause what I was gonna say.
I let it drain me.
Drain me all out.
Take me and twist my limbs.
Wring the water from my life.
I retain it just for you...
To use for your own means.
And you're surveying at the top,
You've chosen me.
I am your perfect victim.
Going about my daily drudgery.
Created perfect commercial tunes.
Arranged the noises to specifically secrete
Whatever my brain will lull me to sleep.
You have painted my walls.
You have me convinced
That I am where I want to be
While I'm just where you want me.
So clever an act that it's been working...
Should I run?
Should I follow?
Should I run and fall down?
Should I run?
Should I follow?
Should I run and fall down?
Burial grounds for splintered dreams sprout trees of product and recycle me...
Recycle me...
I am so willing it makes me sick...
To give you everything that makes "me" me.
I retain it just for you it seems.
Ask yourself this: "Who am I?"
They've figured us out, and the well hasn't yet run dry...
They've planted bombs and ran off in the distance to hide.
We have to detonate everything we see.
For if we dont they'll sell anything we bleed and realize...
That the more you feed...
It's the more that you can bleed.