Tekst:
The Automatic Not Accepted Anywhere

The things that run in my blood I just gave up so fast I've got nothing left to give and Secrets don't keep themselves I'm sick of hiding the answer

up (used up) If I was not lost for words then I'd have nothing to describe I'm holding my breath at your end of town I'm just passing by, not for the

away when the batteries died And you'll start to compromise Just to get to the other side But, it's always for the best And if you're not convinced Then

Find a camera recluse What is it that other people do that doesn't leave a bruise? Its lurking under my skin uninvited Silver paper thin i'm breaking

Intoxicated by this sound Nothing but a fever, going round Concentrated on the tones, that ring dead Leaving you at home That's the happiest you've

Pack up your accents Pack up your batteries Now go marching Back to the factory A bunch of dresses Down to the mattress Car park asphalt tastes good,