There's a worm in your head,
Squirming over on me.
Leaves a paper thin scab
And you're laughing.
It's too crowded
With the skull cap on. (?)
When you're amplified.
And everybody's tired of the noise that you make,
And everybody's tired of the voice you're faking.
Nobody's counting, cause everybody's fine.
And everybody's whistling because everybody's blind.
There's a page of your face from the xerox machine.
Gray matter, bending, blending.
Makes me sleepy when you can't define
How far you're trailing behind.
You're always sedated.
You're simplified.
Picking off the scabs
From the skin of your lies.
And nobody's counting, cause everybody's fine.
And everybody's buying it cause everybody'd blind.
Slow Worm Video (MV)
Performed By: Archers of Loaf
Language: English
Length: 3:32
Written by: ERIC EMIL BACHMANN, MARK ANDREW PRICE, MATTHEW PETER GENTLING, WILLIAM ERIC JOHNSON
Archers of Loaf - Slow Worm Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
There's a worm in your head,
Squirming over on me.
Leaves a paper thin scab
And you're laughing.
It's too crowded
With the skull cap on. (?)
When you're amplified.
And everybody's tired of the noise that you make,
And everybody's tired of the voice you're faking.
Nobody's counting, cause everybody's fine.
And everybody's whistling because everybody's blind.
There's a page of your face from the xerox machine.
Gray matter, bending, blending.
Makes me sleepy when you can't define
How far you're trailing behind.
You're always sedated.
You're simplified.
Picking off the scabs
From the skin of your lies.
And nobody's counting, cause everybody's fine.
And everybody's buying it cause everybody'd blind.
Squirming over on me.
Leaves a paper thin scab
And you're laughing.
It's too crowded
With the skull cap on. (?)
When you're amplified.
And everybody's tired of the noise that you make,
And everybody's tired of the voice you're faking.
Nobody's counting, cause everybody's fine.
And everybody's whistling because everybody's blind.
There's a page of your face from the xerox machine.
Gray matter, bending, blending.
Makes me sleepy when you can't define
How far you're trailing behind.
You're always sedated.
You're simplified.
Picking off the scabs
From the skin of your lies.
And nobody's counting, cause everybody's fine.
And everybody's buying it cause everybody'd blind.
Writer: ERIC EMIL BACHMANN, MARK ANDREW PRICE, MATTHEW PETER GENTLING, WILLIAM ERIC JOHNSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave