Get up son hit your head like a drum
Weeds are all growin' in vain
Too much time i got too much time
Living in a waste of space
Take yourself don't break yourself
Its all gonna be OK
Get used to it don't lose your head
Its all gonna be the same
She knows
Get a message to her
She knows
Send a message to her
Kill it dead but don't let it die
There's a price sitting on your head
Face it down don't turn it around
Unless you want to be where you been
Take yourself don't break yourself
Its all gonna be OK
Get used to it don't lose your head
Its all gonna be the same
She knows
Get a message to her
She knows
Send a message to her
Spell out her name in cigarettes and knives
Tryin' to see her
Get her a message on a dirty window
Tryin' to see her
I've been stripping the days off the sidewalk and pavement
The walls are all white and we're painting them whiter
For the zig zag mainline my radio's plastic
And i've tasted the fodder of a saccharine ending
Day job pay phone on in a trillion
And the typecast heathen with the future all rancid
Something to believe
Something to believe
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Copy to Clipboard: Get up son hit your head like a drum
Weeds are all growin' in vain
Too much time i got too much time
Living in a waste of space
Take yourself don't break yourself
Its all gonna be OK
Get used to it don't lose your head
Its all gonna be the same
She knows
Get a message to her
She knows
Send a message to her
Kill it dead but don't let it die
There's a price sitting on your head
Face it down don't turn it around
Unless you want to be where you been
Take yourself don't break yourself
Its all gonna be OK
Get used to it don't lose your head
Its all gonna be the same
She knows
Get a message to her
She knows
Send a message to her
Spell out her name in cigarettes and knives
Tryin' to see her
Get her a message on a dirty window
Tryin' to see her
I've been stripping the days off the sidewalk and pavement
The walls are all white and we're painting them whiter
For the zig zag mainline my radio's plastic
And i've tasted the fodder of a saccharine ending
Day job pay phone on in a trillion
And the typecast heathen with the future all rancid
Something to believe
Something to believe
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