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Predator

de Neil Norman And His Cosmic Orchestra

Out of tune these days, the only truth I hear is slang
My ceiling is your ground, everythings turned around
So now God thinks it's me who doesn't actually exist
I walked my better half to your door, left feeling worse than I had before
The sex was boring, my morning breath came out to say I'm jaded
And I've lost my carpe diem

Cause now everything feels so hollow, swordfight my drunken mouth
Til I fall face down in the furniture
Never believe me, I'm just a dunce
I'm still twenty grand and sixty units from enlightenment

O cellphone, laptop
O dirty dishes what have I become?
We're playing chicken with cancer
Getting white lies for answers from the trash culture shoved in our face

Now that the internets down we can do something else
Turn our angst into products to sell somewhere
I guess thats why we're here I shouldn't tell you this
This could get dangerous

Now everything feels so hollow, sit in the shower now
Drain the hot water and anxiety
I've got this stale feeling, questioning everything
If its all kitschy what does that make me?

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