Teeth grind in your head. It's a whirring sound, only you can hear it.
Hurry up, you're going to be late. I hope today goes fast so I can live again.
The wicked voice says "Come to bed." But mom, I want to stay up, or I might miss something.
Imagine your face, just inches away from a shotgun blast at the wet dream girl.

Gears, singing that song. Don't put your hand in there, because they'll rip it off.

Hypnotic, like a house on fire. Staring at the flames that burn down your life.
Picture yourself in your wildest dream. Fool yourself into work again.
Everyone there knows your name. It's pinned to your shirt, and stamped on your card.
Hurry up, you're going to be late. I hope today goes fast so I can live again.

Gears, singing that song. A million miles per hour, they never slow down.

You watch the mirrors for the change. And you're taking pictures of everything.
Today is the first day of the end of your life, isn't it?
You caught a picture of Jesus, shooting at the sky. Hallelujah. It breaks you down.
Testifying your happiness, until they catch you.

Gears, singing that song. First it breaks the skin, then it's all over.