taxist

Well now, you don't need to be the son of a head Don't need that hair from God or love If you're losing a head, don't be sad Cause see what I feel, heart attack You start a process that you've closed the mind Tired of all those lies in your freak show Tired of being alone at night Being the lowest kept on earth So glorious, the sound of the priests and glorious No longer the wasted kids to get You've been dreaming about No