Analog-Line

fake commentator

words & music by analog-line

You see all paints on the wall
The fake commentator wastes them all
Is everything under the control?
Are we human waste?

The stuff own our soul
We have to pay for our life to live in good
It is like erosion, like flood
Washing our fate

I am waiting for a call
I have done all that I could
I can’t stand staying here anymore
I have seen and felt enough

I am dead
Because I had to smile to the one I really hate
I am not here to fill your box
You have got everything you wanted
So now, you have got to get out my place
Just let it go