Same ideas expressed in Fitter, Happier are expressed in this song. We're told to strive for some sort of ideal life, which includes getting a good job, being kind to everyone, finding a partner, getting married, having a couple kids, living in a quiet neighborhood in a nice big house, etc. But in Fitter, Happier the narrator(?) realizes that it's incredibly robotic to live this life. People are being used by those in power "like a pig in a cage on antibiotics"--being pacified with things like new phones and cool gadgets and houses while being sucked dry. On No Surprises, the narrator is realizing how this life is killing him slowly. In the video, his helmet is slowly filling up with water, drowning him. But he's so complacent with it. This is a good summary of the song. This boring, "perfect" life foisted upon us by some higher powers (not spiritual, but political, economic, etc. politicians and businessmen, perhaps) is not the way to live. But there is seemingly no way out but death. He'd rather die peacefully right now than live in this cage. While our lives are often shielded, we're in our own protective bubbles, or protective helmets like the one Thom wears, if we look a little harder we can see all the corruption, lies, manipulation, etc. that is going on in the world, often run by huge yet nearly invisible organizations, corporations, and 'leaders'. It's a very hopeless song because it reflects real life.
Meteoric
And dysphoric
And soldered by hand—
A misleading worldview that I can’t withstand.
Impressions,
They are all tested,
But not central to me;
Logic gives way before practical needs.
Consciousness and cognizance
Combine to dissonance.
It’s a tough to translate
Psychological state
That hates what I create.
Replicative methods
Define what is true;
Subjective distress
At a mental review
Of the rules that I’ve unglued.
Atmospheric,
Esoteric,
I don’t understand
How natural selection deals this kind of hand;
Leaving spandrels
Not likely to end well;
They’re causing disease.
My dysphoria’s dealing out death by degrees.
And cognizance kills confidence
In any providence.
It’s my tough to translate
Psychological state
Subjective and ornate.
The sky has been calling
For thousands of years;
Explorative risks on a
Literal sphere.
It appears
I would volunteer.
Incurring costs
That we’ll exchange for our benefits.
Why is that we don’t have them yet?
Just a null set of our own regret?
And I am upset,
Pinning my worth on my sobriquet,
Tracing ennui with my cigarette,
Wearing the unwanted coronet
Of the space cadet.
And cognizance kills confidence
In any providence.
It’s just my tough to translate
Psychological state
That hates what I create.
Replicative methods
Define what is true
Subjective distress
At a mental review.
The sky has been calling
For thousands of years;
Explorative risks on a
Literal sphere.
I’ll pay down your costs
If you take on my debt;
We’re trading for something
That we don’t have yet.
It’s not clear
Who’s looking out of my mirror.
And dysphoric
And soldered by hand—
A misleading worldview that I can’t withstand.
Impressions,
They are all tested,
But not central to me;
Logic gives way before practical needs.
Consciousness and cognizance
Combine to dissonance.
It’s a tough to translate
Psychological state
That hates what I create.
Replicative methods
Define what is true;
Subjective distress
At a mental review
Of the rules that I’ve unglued.
Atmospheric,
Esoteric,
I don’t understand
How natural selection deals this kind of hand;
Leaving spandrels
Not likely to end well;
They’re causing disease.
My dysphoria’s dealing out death by degrees.
And cognizance kills confidence
In any providence.
It’s my tough to translate
Psychological state
Subjective and ornate.
The sky has been calling
For thousands of years;
Explorative risks on a
Literal sphere.
It appears
I would volunteer.
Incurring costs
That we’ll exchange for our benefits.
Why is that we don’t have them yet?
Just a null set of our own regret?
And I am upset,
Pinning my worth on my sobriquet,
Tracing ennui with my cigarette,
Wearing the unwanted coronet
Of the space cadet.
And cognizance kills confidence
In any providence.
It’s just my tough to translate
Psychological state
That hates what I create.
Replicative methods
Define what is true
Subjective distress
At a mental review.
The sky has been calling
For thousands of years;
Explorative risks on a
Literal sphere.
I’ll pay down your costs
If you take on my debt;
We’re trading for something
That we don’t have yet.
It’s not clear
Who’s looking out of my mirror.
Lyrics submitted by etarletons
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