Lletres: Showbread. Age of Reptiles. Naked Lunch.

I want to throw up, but for now I hold back
I can?t express just how I?m feeling, it's true
You want to grow up, but there?s a problem with that
There?s no where to go for someone who?s as stunted as you

It's true that I?m disgusted with myself as well
My tongue cannot be tamed, it?s on a fire straight from hell
I eat the dirt you kick up, and flaw the chord that resonates
A gentle word I cannot find a way to enunciate

You make me, you make me, oh, so sick
Oh, so sick
You make me, yeah, you know you make me
Sick, sick, sick, I get sicker every day

Still your voice, pump your stomach, set the garbage free
Oh, I know you don?t get drunk, you just drink socially
Your reasons are all invalids, they can?t stand up
And when you talk I hear the brain cells die
So keep your mouth shut

I didn?t wake up to find myself as a bug
I?ve been one for much longer than I care to recall
I?m not a junkie lost in inter zone or under a rug
I just eat the bug powder then I climb up the wall

You make me, you make me, oh, so sick
Oh, so sick
You make me, yeah, you know you make me
Sick, sick, sick, I get sicker every day

You make me, you make me, oh, so sick
Oh, so sick
You make me, yeah, you know you make me
Sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick

You make me, you make me, oh, so sick
Oh, so sick
You make me, yeah, you know you make me
Sick, sick, sick, I get sicker every day
Sick, sick, sick, I get sicker every day