Nausea

I'm a sea sick sailor

on a ship of noise

I got my maps all backwards

and my instincts poisoned

in a truth blown gutter

full of wasted years

like blown out speakers

ringing in my ears



its nausea, oh nausea

and we're gone



I'm a straight line walker

in a black out room

I push a shopping cart over

in an aztec ruin

with my minion fingers

working for some god

who could see his own reflection

in a parking lot



its nausea, oh nausea

and we're gone



like a priest teenager

on a tower of dust

I'm a dead generator

in a cloud of exhaust

I eat alone in the desert

with skulls for my pets

I rate the days 1 to 10

with lead cigarettes



oh its nausea, nausea

and we're gone