I'm not surprised that I'm dead
Writing horoscopes and lazy writings as I lay in bed
Punch me in the teeth
And let my stomach bleed

Prying on my father's ear
Fascinating colors that pollute the engineers
They make all of us
Tiny imperfections with imperfection, it's so weird
And it's far too much to discuss

Foraging
Foraging for meaning in a hospital gown
Waiting on my payment [?] them sky high
There is no song that's long enough to explain why I feel down
I want to know more about you but I don't want to cry

Mmm, my father's ear
Fascinating colors that pollute the engineers
They meet us all
Tiny imperfections with imperfection, it's so weird
It is too much to discuss
It is too much (I'm not surprised that I'm dead, writing horoscopes and lazy writings as I lay in bed)
To discuss (punch me in the teeth and let my stomach bleed)