Circle Of Shit

The custom concern for the people is Build up monuments and steeples To wear out our eyes I get up just about noon My head sends a message for me to reach for my shoes and then walk Gotta go to work, gotta go to work, gotta have a job Goes through the parking lot fields Didn't see no signs that they would yield And then thought, this'll never end This'll never end, this'll never stop Message read on the bathroom wall Said, "I don't feel at all like I thought." And we're losing all touch, losing all touch Building a desert Well good luck believing every word they said I hope you have enough space in your head, I don't, and I know it'll be better this way