American Standards The Complex Death Machine
Our fears are razor thin but always seem enough
They cut right through the skin and settle setting rust
We'll carry this weight
Carry this weight
Carry it to the grave
Carry this weight
And as the cockroaches crawl from their holes
They survived, intact but alone
Breathe in the heartache of living a life in regret
It's a crime
We laugh and dance on open graves
As the nails rain down
It's like pulling teeth
Grounded by our roots
And riddled with disease
I've got to find something that damn kids believe
We here aren't very long
No time in wondering where we all belong
I can't relate
I can't relate at all
We laugh and dance on open graves
As the nails rain down
We've become smokestacks of men
Polluting the earth with our material filth
The wreckage lining our bones
And our tongues bitter from the taste of failure
But at the first site of that sun
We need to come out of the darkness and step into the light
Oh I know the house has its money on death
But living has a nice stride
So I'll play the odds
