Face the facts and don't look back
There's a hole in this middle town affair
There's a whole inquest
Like a hole in the rest
That I think I'm going to have to sit in
You're a sleeping bag
You're a rhyming slug
Pressure pressure
Man is sick of chairs
From the heart of the sins above ground
Around here I think I'm Jesus
And I'm sick of all the songs about love
There's a head hunt in Birmingham
We're going to hurry down the same old roads
I'm not going to think that I'm a Jesus
Sorry this and sorry that's the same old bone
Pressure pressure
Fix this kiss this
I'm not sick I'm going to handle this
I'm going to have everything I want to have
I'm going to seed some mean
I'm going to raise a scene
I'm going to raise everything I ever had
I'm not sick I'm going to handle this
I'm going to...
