Alt. Route

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Set The Bar Low

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Look at me the picture of liberation
Poster child for bolshevik revelation
I'm the avant garde so all you'll have is just pure speculation
My thoughts are my own i just share them with
Several others
My own i just share them with
Several killers
My own and everybody wishes they could be me
Blind
Men
All
Bluff
As the time shifts it creeps undetected no one notices
His thoughts remain in shadows
Holding tight to whatever they can
His ideas remain unquestioned
By idealists and flashes in the pan
Some might say that it's misery that turns us this way
Turns good me cruel and steers us into
Bad ideas that seem so reasonable
When nothing else is sensible
So just sign right here
On the dotted line for your victory
The contract of an unbeknownst hypocrisy
Still tightly wound just waiting for someone to set it free
Daddy's guns and mommy's drugs
Taking shots and fruitless hugs
Always moving job to job
It's the Alt. Route
Daddy's guns and mommy's drugs
Taking shots and fruitless hugs
Always moving job to job
It's the Alt. Route
Craving your attention
Spitting all intention
But i am no Different
I just choose a different
Outlet to the mess and noise
But i still misuse my voice
Sorry my friends
Through all the screams
We just wish to be seen

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