Boom like a baby with big, bug eyes getting psychedelic on welfare
Twenty seven closed doors, I've the heart of a whore psychedelic on the well-fared
Getting psychedelic on welfare
Getting psychedelic on well-fared
I'm stuck at the bottom of the sky, I can't leave
I can't shy away to somewhere where I won't get asked why
I'm stuck at the bottom of the sky, I can't leave
I can't shy away to somewhere where I won't get asked why
Boom like a baby with big, bug eyes getting psychedelic on welfare
Twenty seven closed doors, I've the heart of a whore psychedelic on the well-fared
F*ck it up, like a B-league, A-team shit-scheme mobscene
Like a little warted tumour on the side of a poolside festival
Come, come hit the waterfalling pit. You afraid to go clotheless?
Sinking right down, low brow, tied to no genitals
Too many hands on money, too many hands on me
Too many hands on money, too many whores
I'm stuck at the bottom of the sky, I can't leave
I can't shy away to somewhere where I won't get asked why
I'm stuck at the bottom of the sky, I can't leave, and I hope I get Stockholm Syndrome