Piss in the Fucking Cup, Shinji

Robutussin dulls the senses
Once again laid low by nothing
Nothing so romantic in the
Common cold

Plastic bead chains twirl like ballet
“Change in address or insurance?”
Artificial foliage gives off
Fresher air than church

Take my blood and ask for more, you
Give a mouse a stethoscope, they
Think they know what’s best for you, some
Turn your head and cough type shit

Puppet, play dead
This world turns on acquiescence
Once you’re back from here it’s
Back to work.