Fire

The flower grew the wall

Displaying of his color

The motive wasn't clear

But you wouldn't understandNow we're getting on like fire

With matchsticks in our eyes

And the money men are here

With yes men to their sidesThe audience approves

With a movement of clothing

But they never even see

The nature of this illusionNow we're getting on like fire

Lets burn it to the ground

And the warning it came so clear

But I couldn't see the signsThere's a plate in my head

There's a chip in my head