Rat Race Lyrics

Every track

I crack in half

bending back

like an acrobatic rat

trying to snatch

the snack

attached

to the trap

SPLAT

All through the house

not a creature was stirring

not even a mouse

except the purring

of the cat

with the tail

in it’s mouth

You Call money cheddar

but it’s more like Swiss

full of holes

with all the points it missed

TISK TISK Mister

what won’t you risk

to get a Lick

of your whiskers

Time is a circus

and we deserve it

for serving the serpent

slurping us up like vermin

The verdict

is certainly

pertinent to me

as I’m currently

wording a sermon

behind the curtain

flirting with the uncertain

working to be an idol

but any idol

is a false idol

Especially an idle idol

that’s entitled

to be lied to

like I do

Idol or Mitochondria

Insignificantly small

can barely see ya

but growing like a chia seed

vehement weed

peel me and see

The morality

of the incredibly complex

Yet time

always onsets

No time to reflect

No way to reset

Every moment

is a moment

you didn’t do

what you could’ve done

to save the planet from

what's coming next

In context

we’re next

to insects

lest we forget

the butterfly effect

To be more direct

we infect

every action

with our intent

creating traction

that we do and don’t select

Got a headache yet?

The ripple

that nimbly

flips the simple

into unfathomably complex

with the drop

of a thimble

has got me vexed

All I can do is accept

I am a product of

and contributor

to everything

And own it

And know it

And blow it

Because I’m not God

I’m a rat

And I don’t want free will

I want God back

But You’ll never see

the man that runs the streets

Stone cold ideas laid in concrete

They set the pace

Don’t try to chase

you’ll move in place

They’ve already won

this rat race

Ever felt that feeling

you’re a lab rat

in their habitat

of glass ceilings

and buttons they tap

like ratatat

That track

that don’t smack

but instead

it smacks you back

Yeah that

How can I be

The product of

and contributor to

Everything

When I don't even know

the man that runs the streets

Stone cold ideas laid in concrete

They set the pace

Don’t try to chase

you’ll move in place

They’ve already won this…

Low wage raises

latest phase crazes

lost blazed gazes

it’s all rat maze chases

cheese at the end

of the tunnel vision

Bury your treasure

Carrier pigeon

Rats with Wings

Keep wishing

to be the king

of the sewer

Skewer the pure

they are fewer and fewer

Call it mature

to bow to the allure

of your Fuher

But watch out

when they cure

the Bubonic Plague

The capitalist map

is just a trap

at the last of it’s drag

So take one last hit

of this erroneous bologna

before it’s lost in the snag

Of the wagon wheel

Times vagabond heels

the endless dragon

that steals

Our memory

and leaves behind

only what’s real

and based

And We forget

all about

Your little rat race