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• Artiste: Dingus
• Titre: Shrunken Heads
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Wasted cigarettes hardly ash before there's something else to burn it's done, you're already moving on and the drunkard seeks scape through the faded tint of empty bottles leave no room to discover That it's always been in front of him, but he's never recognized that the more he runs, the more he's left behind because horoscopes and shrunken heads can't be without the numb keep it burning For every hooker, there's a nun for every welcome, there's a shun it makes no sense to search forever when only so much can be done nothing is fair when nothing's sufficient continued mistakes to turn and neglect And the moment dies, and everybody cries for what could never be achieved but the broken hearts appear to be relieved And even if you're strictly sober you never take the glance your haste can't make tomorrow sooner your faded will can't pave the way at all kicking off what's nipping at your heels through it could support your feet And now, self-inflicted suffocation, poorly judged contemplation what's beyond this boring town, and what beauty laid within all those alcoholic routines, and all the faded friends and jobs? they have made you who you are you can't forget the roots from which you claim to be growing Burning cigarettes hardly give that sweet tobacco taste the time has come to recover Keep it burning self-inflicted suffocation, poorly judged contemplation Keep it burning