Tekst:
Cheap Thrills Release The Hands

Everyday i get up and i try to make things right i face what comes my way, no matter what?s in my sight and every once in a while when i try to

liquid nitrogen until the speakers look frost bitten. My car region is connected to my pierced probes releasing sound demons that nibble ear lobes. With the wave of my right hand

to be polite I'm talking about you Unconspicuous keep killing that sweet feeling The mystique's building I only speak to the freakishly sheep children For some cheap thrill