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 abseloutely

Never abseloutely



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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