The repression machine
Opened up my chest
And dropped quiet insects
Under my alloy vest
Like broken glass
With menestrating parasites
The insulating jerks
Are ready to fight
Fucking paper cuts
Covering my violent lips
With rubber bands
Holding on my fingertips
Like a firing squad shooting in an octagon
With the rifle shells you called to get me high on
Get me high on...
Get me high
Hungry, angry, lonely, tired
Leaving, staying, options required
Hungry, angry, lonely, tired
Leaving, staying, options required
I hang from my barbed-wire grappling hook
Hijacking the heroes to forget the hearts I took
It's my part in the plastic remote control band
Held up with a middle finger kickstand
Stabbing me from the back
Wasted, high, and paranoid on crack
Like a firing squad shooting in an octagon
With the rifle shells you called to get me high on
Get me high on...


Lyrics submitted by iceblink-luck

Tired & Bored song meanings
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