I spoke with the sales rep. Seems like we glued our feet in place. And so much for decisions. I though you’d have more time to spare. Your packages is packaged- it’s wrapped two times. You have more things to spare. The fear is back in town. You gotta get it kid. Now you sold me a bike lock. Seems like it needs a special tool to make the damn thing work. Won’t you sell me the tool? Won’t you sell me the gun? Won’t you sell me the information? You have more things to spare. The more that we swallow the more we are hollow. Trash is locked down. The ones who rummaged were found guilty by the police. So won’t you sell them the key? What’s your asking price tonight? Locked in, locked out. Credit, debit, private account. We have more things to sell. You give what you give, you take what you take. Seems like you took me for a fool. There’s a power relation here. There’s no separation here. Won’t you sell me the tool? Won’t you sell me the gun? Won’t you sell me the information? I have n time to spare. The more that we swallow the more we are hollow.
Lyrics submitted by jesssica
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