Press Any Key To Continue (Part One, Two, and Three) - The Paper Chase

Control-alt-delete you

Now press any key to continue

I’ve got parables:

the unattainables to you

The leash is to lead you…

The fish is to feed you

To hang you high by the knees

Hang you high from the trees…

The flash, the wings, the sun

I’ve got chicken wire

When I’ve got piano wire

I’ve got method

The unattainables to you

And you…

I see right through you

And you…

I see right through you

And you, you, you…

I’ve got fishes to feed you

You, you, you…

I’ve got fishes to feed you

(Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket) Hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, …the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket, hang you from the trees

Feed you from the bucket…

The sun… is uncontrollable… unforgiving.

With the sun, you can’t shape and

sculpt reality.​

Have you left me your pliers for bent back desires to find a routine?

The simple repair, but it’s the «simple» that scares me and finds me the «weak»

And your oak tree reminders just remind me that something’s still wrong with

the leaves

I shield out the glare and get fit for my chair as I shake off my feet

Now the research can end… won’t be wrong again

Yeah, the research can end… won’t be wrong again

No, the research can end… won’t…