Texty: Beck. Mutations. Static.

It's so easy to laugh at yourself
And all those jokes have already been written
Seems like another vain attempt
To let yourself fall out of the oven

Holy mountains they look so tired
And it's a perfect day to lock yourself inside
Who you fooling with the fools are right
It's the same thing but it's almost as different

Hard to tell when it pacifies your mind
Leaves you stranded with a broken engine
Lazy desert looks so mangled
Let me drown in a convalescent bliss

Get up from your bed of rest
Been a long time since you've lived
But the static in your mind
Leaves you hollow and unkind

With a shock electric wave turns you on
You've been flunked out of the devils house
Delinquent hygienes are so abrasive
Some distortion that's never been known

On the treadmill you've been running forever
Holy mountains, they look so tired
And it's a perfect day to lock yourself inside