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Face the facts and don't look back
There's a hole in this middle town affair
There's a whole inquest
Like a hole in the rest
That I think I'm going to have to sit in
You're a sleeping bag
You're a rhyming slug

Pressure pressure

Man is sick of chairs
From the heart of the sins above ground
Around here I think I'm Jesus
And I'm sick of all the songs about love
There's a head hunt in Birmingham
We're going to hurry down the same old roads
I'm not going to think that I'm a Jesus
Sorry this and sorry that's the same old bone

Pressure pressure

Fix this kiss this

I'm not sick I'm going to handle this
I'm going to have everything I want to have
I'm going to seed some mean
I'm going to raise a scene
I'm going to raise everything I ever had

I'm not sick I'm going to handle this
I'm going to...

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