from the look of things - the ticket out lyrics
a sudden fight broke
with who i was and who i am
the former hung himself to avoid the confrontation
and i felt the mourn
should i be ashamed?
i don’t really even care
his weapon is gone, but i’m still afraid
‘cause he’s still got both my hands bound
my response is cold
but that don’t sit well
with the man who been eating at my soul
a hole filled with careless hopes
greed encomp-ssed growth
-slow-mo k!ll for the thrill
of skipping on the bill with the devil
he told me it would be okay
he said, “it just don’t matter anymore”
i’m flattered he would think it so
but me? i can’t sink that low
this moral walk’s descending into caverns
crawling with these empty, sinning b-st-rds
crosshairs trickle in between my eyes
so i try to lift my hands up high—comply
i wanna show ‘em that i mean no danger
i’m no evil rearranger
a stranger still to the violence that lines the path
i’m ashamed to be part of that math
well, pardon my lack of concern
i needed a way out
and this p-ssive, sick-cycle world
can’t buy me a ticket for the train
-my ride out of this hollow, empty h-ll
i’m at the gate
and i only see one sure way out of here
-down
a sudden fight broke
with my left hand and my right
over who could paint
a better self-portrait on the concrete
leaking out loneliness
how could i own up to this?
i shouted, “enough! ya’ll should be ashamed!”
but the likeness was more than a picture or a name
it was perfect—that made it all worth it
claimed the copyright
sold it back to the circus i came from
-where my other half still hangs from
no one else around to smear the blame upon
then i made enough to finally purchase that ticket
and train ride straight to the top
quicker and slicker
than tripping towards a flicker of light
stumble through the dark on a chance i bite?
aha, that just don’t feel right
i’m arrow tonight, flying back to home plate
well, pardon my lack of concern
i needed a way out
and this p-ssive, sick-cycle world
can’t buy me a ticket for the train
-my ride out of this hollow, empty h-ll
i’m at the gate
and i only see one sure way out of here
so i crippled my hands and smiled
’cause i made a fortune
off that rust-colored, tear-filled mess atop the asphalt
and my self-made portrait of pain
just bought me the ticket for that train
i’m at the gate
i’m at the gate
i’m at the gate
-down
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