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the paper chase - press any key to continue (part one, two, and three) lyrics

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all people want to be gods. unfortunately, some do not recognize the impossibility of it.

control-alt-delete you
now press any key to continue
i’ve got parables:
[that would be] 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…

- the paper chase lyrics

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