No Pressure

Look with your fingers Steer into the turn Think like a mannequin littered with burns Good God Get gone Misshapen marbled skin, son of a demon Wake up to the birds who've been chirping through the evening Good Lord Get gone Stoned by your filthy greed too heavy to measure, yeah Good Lord how you mix and you measure Got sycophants to please We're parked in the lot for the peasants Got snuck in for free And while you bury your skin in the sun We're all trying not to freeze, yeah So we'll be on the next bus to Mexico And you can stay and be king of the fleas Either way we're done dancing in this Escher No pressure Fear for your children Captain of the worms Call us when the satisfaction morphs into concern Good Lord Get gone Lazy as the length of red rope around your neck Superficialities calibrated by your own regrets Good Lord Get gone Party of two Lies and you catch up Good Lord how you mix and you measure Got sycophants to please We're parked in the lot for the peasants Got snuck in for free And while you bury your skin in the sun We're all trying not to freeze, yeah So we'll be on the next bus to Mexico You can stay and be king of the fleas Either way we're done dancing in this Escher No pressure Good Lord how you mix and you measure Got sycophants to please We're all parked in the lot for the peasants Got snuck in for free And while you bury your skin in the sun We're all trying not to freeze, yeah So we'll be on the next bus to Mexico And you can stay and be king of the fleas It don't matter if we see the ledger And either way we're done dancing in this Escher No pressure