Chop

The cloudy sky woke me up at noon The vapor smoke hangs in my room I sleep next to a pile clothes It makes me wonder how far I’d go How far I’ll go To deflect the pressure away from you Tell me what you want to do He calls me in Munich From car zoo saint hill Said, "Old chap, what do I shun? Was it enough?" Clouded by a second mood Pessimistic thoughts aren’t good I’m damaged from my point of view The tallest up to reach the moon How far I’ll go To project my pleasure on to you Is the only thing I want to do Fun, that is no rush Show the cash hoarders But history’s all their way – me soggy I know... I know much gets used Can’t say much But you make me a psyop Noom eht hcaer Ot pu tsellat Doom dnoces a yb To project my pleasure on to you Is the only thing I want to do Bud, hey there's no rush Oh no cash starkies? But history's all your game Hell noise