Foreign

Sometimes I feel like I'm in China, man, stir fried in a frying pan Like a tyrant man is got me by the throat and now I'm dying man. Just want to fly again, high and then sound the siren And later when I try and land I'll be far from you in China land. So don't worry about me, I'll be down by the sea Finally a peaceful individual, I'll send you back residuals Visuals of my rituals, I'd rather you not be miserable But then again I'm remembering, to you I'm just invisible Would you believe if I said I couldn't make it In a doubtful world that would rather have my fake it I'm sinking in a sea of unknown faces Like a drone, like a drone, like a drone.