Tekstovi: Bomb The Music Industry!. Can't Complain.

Wake up, start running for your life.
Fill the tumbler with the coffee
Feed the cat and hit the lights.
The steps are ticking counts a beat ahead of you.
The steps are keeping time.

But I can't complain.
I've got a bed I can crawl into.
I've got a bottle for the pain.
I've got a window shade I can pull right down
When the sky fills up with clouds and it looks like rain.
I can't complain.

Someone will start nipping at your heels.
Panic pumps blood through your knees
But they don't care how you feel.
The little fuckers chewing through the plastic;
They're gonna do you in.

But I can't complain.
I've got a bed I can crawl into.
I've got a bottle for the pain.
I've got a window shade I can pull right down
When the sky fills up with clouds and it looks like rain.
I can't complain.

And I'm sorry the things I touch, I always damage.
And I'm sorry I always act like I can't manage
To stop the fuckers chewing through the fabric.
They're gonna do me in.