Or Form.

Call out all my demons, tell them I will take the fall, I'm sick of all these headaches, from banging my head against the WALL! I wrap myself in cellophane, to blend into the streets, I won't tell where I'm hiding until the blood gets to my FEET! So

They sink down deeper While still dodging the creeper Of the blue collar classic motif Let it fall into the sea With your perfect posture Still a crooked spine While the flume you protect starts to leak Can't buy pride with good intentions Whoa whoa