This whole is settling
Slowly sinking into its grave
The motion doesn't bother us
We have nothing to save
Rachel sits on a folding chair
Inches from the TV screen
She doesn't seem to care what it shows
Much less what it means
In the corner of his bedroom
Dylan's got a little shrine
Icons of Jung and Campbell
Arrayed in pristine lines
As for me I'm spending most of my time
Watching pigeons in the park
Hoping desperately for insight
As I stumble around in the dark
Just one among the phantoms
Confined to this plastered hell
Are we really seeking answers
Or just excuses
For remaining unwell?
The kitchen counters are covered
With discarded take out detritus
We all point the blame at one another
Desperately hoping that someone will fight us
Dylan's developed a limp
John says it's psychosomatic
We all flaunt our brokenness
Narcissistic and melodramatic
Rachel yells at her mother
On the telephone every night
We all understand the impulse
But I guess that doesn't make it right
Just one more destructive behavior
So common in this plastered hell
Despite all our protestations
We're all addicted
To being unwell
Headless Relatives - Unwell Lyrics
Headless Relatives - Unwell Lyrics
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This whole is settling
Slowly sinking into its grave
The motion doesn't bother us
We have nothing to save
Rachel sits on a folding chair
Inches from the TV screen
She doesn't seem to care what it shows
Much less what it means
In the corner of his bedroom
Dylan's got a little shrine
Icons of Jung and Campbell
Arrayed in pristine lines
As for me I'm spending most of my time
Watching pigeons in the park
Hoping desperately for insight
As I stumble around in the dark
Just one among the phantoms
Confined to this plastered hell
Are we really seeking answers
Or just excuses
For remaining unwell?
The kitchen counters are covered
With discarded take out detritus
We all point the blame at one another
Desperately hoping that someone will fight us
Dylan's developed a limp
John says it's psychosomatic
We all flaunt our brokenness
Narcissistic and melodramatic
Rachel yells at her mother
On the telephone every night
We all understand the impulse
But I guess that doesn't make it right
Just one more destructive behavior
So common in this plastered hell
Despite all our protestations
We're all addicted
To being unwell
Slowly sinking into its grave
The motion doesn't bother us
We have nothing to save
Rachel sits on a folding chair
Inches from the TV screen
She doesn't seem to care what it shows
Much less what it means
In the corner of his bedroom
Dylan's got a little shrine
Icons of Jung and Campbell
Arrayed in pristine lines
As for me I'm spending most of my time
Watching pigeons in the park
Hoping desperately for insight
As I stumble around in the dark
Just one among the phantoms
Confined to this plastered hell
Are we really seeking answers
Or just excuses
For remaining unwell?
The kitchen counters are covered
With discarded take out detritus
We all point the blame at one another
Desperately hoping that someone will fight us
Dylan's developed a limp
John says it's psychosomatic
We all flaunt our brokenness
Narcissistic and melodramatic
Rachel yells at her mother
On the telephone every night
We all understand the impulse
But I guess that doesn't make it right
Just one more destructive behavior
So common in this plastered hell
Despite all our protestations
We're all addicted
To being unwell
Writer: Seth Biskind
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid