Turn Those Clapping Hands Into Angry Balled Fists

Sleep on pillows made in Singapore

Wrapped in comforters

Sweating through sheets

Drinking coffee in the morning

Floating on Airplanes across the vast seas

And your house is made of wood

Central air, central heat

You got your furniture of particle board

Your doors are locked for, for safety

And you walk in leather shoes

Pants of denim, a black cotton sweatshirt

And you do what you do

because doing can start to form a habit

And you drink all night long

And you sleep through the morning

And if something doesn't break

I'm just gonna go, go fucking insane

And you sweep up the floor when it's dirty

You do the dishes, when the sink's full

And when the refrigerator's empty

well it's time, it's time, it's time, it's time to go the store

You put your books on a shelf

Clothes arranged in the closet

You hang the things on the wall that you don't wanna be so easily forgotten

I hate these songs

I hate the words

That the singer is singing to me

I hate this melody

I hate this stupid fucking drum beat

But I'm not gonna tell anyone

What I'm really thinking about

Keep them conversations on the surface

Just keep on smiling

Just keep on saying

Everything's gonna be alright

It's gonna be alright (2x)

Alright [x11]