Fiction Plane Real Real
Burning in the sun
Chewed up by some bugs
Tearing through my flesh
I can feel their love
I hope that they are happy
I feed them with my blood
Today they may be rich
But tomorrow comes a flood
Real real real
Real real real
Real real real
What are the chances
Someone paid for me to grow up
What are the chances
Someone paid for me to grow up
A mouth without a face
He fights his fights in our back garden
Inside we eat creatures
Our hearts begin to harden
A glowing hypnotist sells us a beauty we don't need
We give our days to nothing
But we're not prepared to bleed
We're not prepared to bleed
Real real real
Real real real
Real real real
Real real real
What are the chances
Someone paid for me to grow up
What are the chances
Someone paid for me to grow up
What are the chances
Someone paid for me to grow up
What are the chances
Someone paid for me to grow up
Burning in the sun
Tomorrow comes a flood
Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow
Real real real
Real real real
Real real real
Real real real
Real real real
(What are the chances
Someone paid for me to grow up)
Real real real
(What are the chances
Someone paid for me to grow up)
Real real real
(What are the chances
Someone paid for me to grow up)
Real real real
(What are the chances
Someone paid for me to grow up)
