Pssyche! Ha! Pssyche! You feel like you want to go home
You're all alone in the pack
The reason is there
You feel fist, but you keep on going
You won't find it 'till you been and gone
Someone's got you.
Because you're living in your hopes
Pssyche! Ha! Pssyche! Transform machine
You appear illusion
Tell your brain: "seek inspiration"
Then you fall into transfer
To play with your hands
So you can stand back and watch Take past and burn
If you don't know the game
Pssyche! Ha! Pssyche! Then your still part of it
Knowing full well that you're on the range
Because out on the street its strange to show
Dodge the bullets, or carry the gun. Pssyche! Ha! Pssyche!
The choice is yours Look at the controller,
A natzi with a social degree,
A middle class hero with your eyes on me,
Preach yes to the nuns you fuck,
You feast on masturbation,
Jesus would like it nooowwYou would wipe out semantics if you had a chance,.
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