dust collectors - Americans Are Empty Vessels in a Meaningless Life

I was born in a Circuit City
I make my living through scratch lottery

I'm a liability, can't you tell?
If I didn't make a sound, how'd you know I fell?

You are driving
Animalistic instinct violently repositions your line of sight
To the anxious gnat that just fluttered into your field of view
As frail wings chop the stale air
The vehicle is abruptly encapsulated in glorious self-immolation
And nauseating smoke
You are no longer driving

Written by:
Michael Annone

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find