you spend half your time wandering on your own
and the rest carrying a golden acme ton

but you know it's noone's fault you're kicking and screaming up the walls
and there's nothing here.. out in the open, all clear

he'll never talk, never squeeze your hand
never hear any of the words put in his ears

but you know it's noone's fault you're kicking and screaming up the walls
and there's nothing here.. out in the open, all clear

when there is something new growing, just forget the first thing
and the silent screaming and the drugged-up worship
it's a sunken vessel, so come on play ball kid..