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When the smaller picture
Is the same as the bigger picture
You know that you're fucked
When you're trading paper cuts for splinters
You're out of luck

Like sharks don't sleep
And I don't take my eyes off you
The architecture's shit
And my cheeks are all ruddy and bruised

And it hits as hard as a blow to the head (And if we're trading paper)
Or a smash to the skull or a knee to your chest (cuts for splinters)
Sweet dreams, sweet cheeks
Oh tomorrow Oh tomorrow Oh tomorrow

All these mercy killings have got my conscience spilling over
(We've paid off the judges and we're taking advantage)
And the buildings ornate but it's lacking in soul and character
(Pleading our defence in binary a smiley apology montage)
We're burning five storey buildings laying man traps at the fire exits
(Like dignity is equal to desperation and self effacement)
Playing feedback over tannoy systems. You look Desperate! You Look Pathetic!
(We're holding on to our own grandeur with careful compliment placement)

And it hits as hard as a blow to the head (And if we're trading paper)
Or a smash to the skull or a knee to your chest (cuts for splinters)

It hits as hard as a blow to the head (And if we're trading paper)
Or a smash to the skull or a knee to your chest (cuts for splinters)

And it hits as hard as a blow to the head (And if we're trading paper)
Or a smash to the skull or a knee to your chest (cuts for splinters)
Sweet dreams, sweet cheeks
Oh tomorrow Oh tomorrow Oh tomorrow

And it hits as hard as a blow to the head (And if we're trading paper)
Or a smash to the skull or a knee to your chest (cuts for splinters)
Sweet dreams, sweet cheeks
Oh tomorrow Oh tomorrow Oh tomorrow

One blink for yes, two blinks for no.
Sweet dreams, sweet cheeks, we leave alone

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