Muck Culture - The Actor

A psychological palate cleanser could really be the fix right now
My optic nerve is disturbed from these inorganic grips right now
I've never been in a room where I couldn't see the sun
And of the people in it, I have pitied everyone
So covert and absurd that it hurts
When these legs try to run
Away
So I'm piercing the palms of my hands
Until I can be the actor
There's not gonna be an after
After it's done
Ah, ooh
Ah, ooh
Ah, ooh
Ah, ooh
Like a deluded imposter in the water that won't reveal herself
The cessation was patient, but now it's coming and it won't slow down
Emotional literacy turning into a currency
That we can trade amongst ourselves
Mass-producing intimacy, losing it simultaneously
And fucking all the bullet shells
Away
So I'm piercing the palms of my hands
Until I can be the actor
There's not gonna be an after
After it's done
The world is ending, why should I give a shit?
Who wouldn't lose it at a time like this?
The world is ending, why should I give a shit?
Who wouldn't lose it at a time like this?
Boiled up, spilling down on you
(At a time like this)
Burning into the angle of view
(At a time like this)
There's a hole eating into my retinas
And it's hiding in my blind spot too
Coiled up inside the eye of it
Knowing we couldn't hide from it
And paving over avenues
Away
So I'm piercing the palms of my hands
Until I can be the actor
There's not gonna be an after
After it's done
The world is ending, why should I give a shit?
Who wouldn't lose it at a time like this?
The world is ending, why should I give a shit?
Who wouldn't lose it at a time like this?
At a time like this
At a time like this
At a time like this
At a time like this
At a time like this
At a time like this
At a time like this
At a time like this

Written by:
Alison Hopper

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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