The Complex Death Machine - American Standards

Our fears are razor thin but always seem enough

They cut right through the skin and settle setting rust

We’ll carry this weight

Carry this weight

Carry it to the grave

Carry this weight

And as the cockroaches crawl from their holes

They survived, intact but alone

Breathe in the heartache of living a life in regret

It’s a crime

We laugh and dance on open graves

As the nails rain down

It’s like pulling teeth

Grounded by our roots

And riddled with disease

I’ve got to find something that damn kids believe

We here aren’t very long

No time in wondering where we all belong

I can’t relate

I can’t relate at all

We laugh and dance on open graves

As the nails rain down

We’ve become smokestacks of men

Polluting the earth with our material filth

The wreckage lining our bones

And our tongues bitter from the taste of failure

But at the first site of that sun

We need to come out of the darkness and step into the light

Oh I know the house has its money on death

But living has a nice stride

So I’ll play the odds