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I, The Throw Away

Made a man out of me

A killing machine

Your baby's going to die ma

Your baby's coming home

You know, they put a man on the moon

Simply to prove that we all need a place to go

Where we're not known, where we're not

And to a lesser degree

I can recall breathing easy

But the deficit rolls, built up I suppose

Picking up the pieces of another fucked up reason

For selling of some freedom that was never free

Well, never absolutely, never absolutely

Made a mess out of me

A killing machine

Sometimes when I need them

If I look hard enough to see them

I can find my feet as I push against gravity

In and out of having them been led by defeat

So one more time's all I need

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