labourissuesinthetoydepartment - Dillinger Four

Know your place, it’s like a voice

That won’t go away

Like vices we hold to tradition

Like children not allowed across the street

Starving for some recognition

Where want and honesty meet

Nothing known can match the bitter pain

Of knowing happiness is just beyond the reach of your chain

And the overwhelming feeling it will be the same forever

Now here I am looking down a hole again

Treating damage and despair like they’re long-lost friends

No remedy at all, I’m waiting for the fall

Staring out the window like what’s outside’s unattainable

Cover me with roses for the funeral pyre

Shoot this dashing carcass out to fucking sea

I can’t wait in this state

This voice, these hands don’t feel like they’re really me

I’m the blinded who can feel that he’s surrounded by walls

And relief is very seldom cheap

Now I think I’m gonna snap like prey in a trap

Watch as desperation takes a seat

Forgive me my trespasses

Like I know I’ll trespass tonight

Don’t want to hear any fucking voices at all

Even if they’re saying I’m alright

Memory’s beating soundly on the body

Cursing what’s left of the sorry shell

I’d give anything to make this heart stop pounding

Staring out the window like what’s outside’s unattainable

Cover me with roses for the funeral pyre

Shoot this dashing carcass out to fucking sea

I can’t wait in this state

This voice, these hands don’t feel like they’re really

Now life’s like a B-movie that no one wants to see

Here comes the zombie portraying me

What was once so crystal clear is now cranked past the norm

And I can’t take it anymore

You’re going to fuck them after all