[Intro]

Burning parts, boils too

We got a fucking fever of a hundred-and-two

[Verse 1]

Everyone's sicker than a dog in here

No one's got the medicine to make it all clear

Stranger things have happened, but they're certainly rare

And no one's survived 'em anyway, so we don't fucking care

[Pre-Chorus]

Give us a pill, pass us a drink

Our hair is fucking falling out and clogging the sinks

Water on the floor like a fucking slip and slide

So come on everybody, let's go for a ride

[Chorus]

And do the sick, sick, throw up, roll around in the muck

Yeah, it's the dance that we do to get fucked

Everybody's too gross to get unstuck

And no, we're not the kind of people with any kind of luck

[Post-Chorus]

Beating on each other with our fist and our wrists

Just to get our fucking heads to stop

Lying to each other that tomorrow will be better

When we know damn well we're fucked

Fuck!

[Bridge]

"Drugs are menacing our society. They're threatening our values and undercutting our institutions. We've taken strong steps to do something about this horror. They're killing our children."

[Verse 2]

We'll do the sick, sick 'til we're all deep in the ground

And trash with the worms and their friends

Rolling in our graves 'til the fucking world ends

No one can avoid it, we're not making amends

Everyone's sicker than a dog in here

No one's go the wherewithal to make it all clear

If anybody had a clue, we'd work out a plan

But it's easier to think of ways to laugh it off instead

[Pre-Chorus]

Gimme a pill, pass me a drink

It's an easier solution than to actually think

Our hair is falling out and clogging the sinks

And the waste has piled up to the point where it stinks

[Chorus]

Do the sick, sick, throw up, roll around in the muck

Yeah it's the dance that we do to get fucked

Everyone's too gross to get unstuck

And we're not the kind of people with any kind of luck

[Post-Chorus]

So we're beating on each other with our fists and our feet

Just to try and get a minute of sleep

When if we all get along, sing a couple of songs

We'd slow the sprint toward death to a creep (Go!)

Beating on each other with our fist and our wrists

Just to get our pounding heads to stop

Lying to each other that tomorrow will be better

When we know damn well we're fucked