Like a ton of bricks
The ultimate fix
In this silent law
I'm the human crucifix
A hundred lies penetration
Nine inch salvation
The ecclestical thrill
With instant life reveal
An ironic pain
Relation profane
An neurotic mission
To purify non-fiction
Magnified recursions
The salt of the endurance
But I hate the blessance
Of iconized acceptance
It's called frustration
It's called frustration
So called frustration
Who needs frustration
I need frustration
We need frustration
As a product of the environment
I accept the caustic of the German mentality
But when I walk through the shadow
Of the valley of death I fear all evil
I hide under my stone
Where my ego can be alone
From all violated eyes
And supersonic lies
Sick, sick, sick martyr
Sick martyr
Sick, sick, sick martyr
Heat martyr
In the cultural storms
Butterflies and worms
A fast isolation
And total agulation
An observing eye
When worlds collide
The apathic relation
Like clinic masturbation
Sick, sick, sick martyr
Sick martyr
Sick, sick, sick martyr
Sick martyr
Sick martyr
Sick martyr
Sick martyr
Sick martyr
Sick martyr
Sick martyr
Sick, sick, sick martyr
Sick, sick, sick martyr
Sick, sick, sick martyr
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