Nausea in Paradise

Should of known--It’s the reason that you’re living alone.

Concentrated on how they feel--About you through a glass eye wrapped in steel.

It’s your foley---like a fake sound,

Added to your film to make you feel more profound.

It’s your body on a fallen night,

Occupied with the same blind view of life.

It’s that simple little feeling of a sterile kind of life

Your eyes kept shut, until the glare becomes the sun.

Should of known--But the same sands under your skin now.

Grain to grain as they watch you go

Sink into a place that you don’t know, no!

It’s that simple little feeling of a sterile kind of life

Your eyes kept shut, until the glare becomes the sun.

It keeps you warm--as you fall into another lie

That keeps you wrong.

Nausea in Paradise.

The simple little pleasures that can keep you far from life.

So you shut it down

Like the mill on the hill you’re silent now.

No timber left to burn.

So you blend in with surroundings now.

Looking back--Looking back--Looking back--It keeps you warm--as you fall into another lie

That keeps you wrong.

Nausea in Paradise.

The simple little pleasures that can keep you far from life.