I sit here shooting blanks out at emptiness
Ain't nothing I really wanna kill, maybe time I guess
I sit and spin the world on its flip side
And listen backwards for meaning
Cause I'm a stick man
I live with one dimension dead
Tryin' not to think too many moves ahead
I draw from memory, the stillest kind of life
I cut slide after slide, mental pain's the sharpest knife
Project what's done so every thing's in face
To me, they're color reversals
And I'm a stickman in frames that go one by one
If I sped it up, you'd see I'm on the run
From some monster off screen
Killing sons
Lonely makes me blue
Envy turns me green
Hate might paint me red
If I load my magazine
But not just now when it's easy to stay clean
And no one sees where I'm bleeding
I'm a stickman in black, and everything is clear
Empty in fact, but for a fact I'm here
Loading my blanks to make a silent sound
Some make me smile, that make the cruel clown
Who drew me this way frown