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    It's all sick, I feel sick
    I'll be sick, then it's fine
    I'm conform to your norm
    With a bucket full for me
    I'll be free, finally
    I will see what you mean with your freedom

    This world you call home
    Not alone, happy drone
    Won't be sick of these cars
    All these clothes, and these bars
    All these sickening scars
    I'll believe in the way
    Of the stripes and the superstars

    I will fall in line and obey
    'cause the price is so small
    Almost nothing at all
    If I'm just losing me
    Then the ideals and truths
    Will follow naturally
    Happily I will settle for
    Your conformative apathy

    If I could just get rid of this
    Unsettling, uncomfortable
    Bucket of insight and honesty
    This sick sick sick bucket of reality
    But you see, see; this sick will stick
    'cause it's me
    It's me

    Step into the dark age of treason
    Today the only voice of reason
    Would have to be the sound
    Of the soup of the season
    Hitting ground
    Hitting ground...

    Feeling sickened
    By this fucking travesty
    Is just a sign of sanity
    You're not alone
    And every time that you hurt
    Every cut, every scar
    And every time you just hate
    Everything that you are
    It is simply the instinct to flee
    To escape from this mess
    This continuous rape
    Of what's true and what's real

    So you gnaw at your paw
    To get out of this trap
    Of the cage, of our time
    All that rage
    Is your struggle to survive
    They think you wanna die
    When in truth you just strive
    Biting every hand
    Just to stay alive

    But can you hear that sound
    In your ear, growing louder and louder?
    The whole world around you
    A pounding and grinding
    That tells you that you're not alone
    It's the sound of thousands and thousands
    Of vixen teeth
    Hitting bone

    Step into the dark age of treason
    Today the only voice of reason
    Would have to be the sound
    Of the soup of the season
    Hitting ground...

    Of these bars and these cars
    I feel sick
    You are making me sick
    So sick
    You are making me sick
    It's all sick
    We're all sick
    You are making me sick

    Soup of the season
    Hitting ground

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