For four fortnights I've fled from my fortress<br />
Foraging forests five footsteps in length<br />
Fortitude found within forty ounce bottles<br />
Flowing like flies from your face<br />
From your face<br />
<br />
And my neighborhood<br />
It's been filled brim with black cats<br />
And when I go driving they walk through my path all the time<br />
Every time<br />
<br />
First we were babies, we're birthing and dying<br />
Then we were children, we were playing and crying<br />
And then we were teenagers we were smoking and fucking<br />
But now we're all grown up and we're sadly sighing<br />
Liking, mud larking, and licking our wounds<br />
We've created by lusting and lying to ourselves and to others<br />
We're sadly sighing<br />
<br />
And I'd like to be a big ball of meat<br />
That bee's can buzz around and eat when I die<br />
So that I may be granted one sense of purpose