In our tiny little plastic world,

where caffeine is the only drug,

the doors and windows never open,

something contagious could come up.



We see where the horizons end

and scream until our lies will hurt,

we open up, we leave the key

find out what it means to me.



We waste our time on borderlines

and never ask what we'll become.

Our hearts are filled with empty shells.

The work is done.

The work is done.



We live in happy little boxes,

celebrate shopping all day long,

back home

we drink our sky-blue liquids,

a taste of life on our tongue.



In our tiny little colonies,

something contagious will come up.

The doors and windows are all broken,

the virus as a gentle hug.



We sympathize with open ends,

and scream until our lies will hurt.

We open up, we leave the key.

Find out what it means to me.



We live in happy little boxes,

celebrate shopping all day long,

back home

we drink our sky-blue liquids,

a taste of life on our tongue.