• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• Psi - Pitchshifter
• Psi - Katscan

Eight days of the week cant believe my eyes.
Insurrection in the streets so we stay inside.
Go, its coming.
Eight days of the week were dead on our feet,
take me aside just shoot me.
No black and white, black and white,
wish we could drive right through you.
Tired of wishing things were different I can sympathise.
Lately things dont seem so easy theres no black and white.
Go, its coming.
Eight days of the week were dead on our feet,
take me aside just shoot me.
No black and white, black and white,
wish we could drive right through you

Sad bunnies hoping channels for their masturbation
You’re born, reproduce and then you die
They’ll tell you “Fairy tales, they don’t come true”
No happy ever afters for the likes of you
One thousand pounds of pressure P.S.I.
I miss the beat, I crack at last
I’m exploding like a nervous Judas neutron bomb
And I’ll take the whole fuckin’ world with me now
We could be polysexual
No man, but transhuman
Swallow the germ of your evolution
And let the old flesh…
Let your old flesh burn
In slo-MO we walk through speeding traffic
On the outside looking in, this is our time, this is
our place
Don’t feel no kinship to the words they speak
I don’t belong in this time or in this place
I wound cleanse this world of it’s banality
Cauterize the wounds left by fear
Inoculate the child from apathy
While his birth bloods are still wet
The new age dreamers and the talk-show-freak-show
They cling like leaches to this dying world
You ram as much as you can into your mouth
They feed you your own heart…