I, the Throw Away

Made a man out of me

A killing machine

Your baby's going to die ma

Your baby's coming homeYou 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 degreeI 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 freeWell, never absolutely, never absolutely

Made a mess out of me

A killing machine

Sometimes when I need them