The memory of this history has alzheimer's.
Your mind sure could use some anti-perspirant.
You're the Monsanto of my heart, the last grain in my blood.
They hold us down then tell us that it's gravity
They use words like "natural," naturally.
The dark corners are hard to find in a city this big,
So we're going to hide in the center of attention.
You make me dream so heavily and when they drop,
Everybody hears echoes in their heads for years,
No one's sure where the weight came from,
Certainly not from distortion... extortion.
Basque in the sun like a separatist,
Our generation burned as it tanned.
To be at the whim of the elements again,
This generation said as it laughed.
To be at the whim of the elements agains,
This generation said.
They hold us down the tell us that it's gravity...