Fever=drugs, Money=Blood
Is it bad for love?
I got no Faith in these Dogs
or my chance for survival, ho-hum
i got no cure for these kids
or their cancerous rivalry, so dumb
they go and go again
i got no need for these clothes
when you get my blood boiling, my friend
i got no way to feel bad while your tree of life grows
in it, it grows in it
WE get so high, we get so low
We were dinosaurs in the end
We were dinosaurs in the end
We were Carnivore to pretend
That we'd opt out of survival
Ln Lieu of some revival Pretense
Got this belly of salt and a mouth full of glass teeth
I'm a fix, I'm a junkie, I'm a pirate
I'm a love maker, falling
We get so high, we get so low