There is a certain constant tension inside my skull.
Insecurities that used to make me crazy, now just make me dull.
So I'm scrounging in a western void searching for relief.
You can check out early & die while you're young or peak, wither & wait for disease.

The party has died. Hangover subside.
With clamped open eyes I watch the death tolls rise.
I hunt with open wounds & sorrow by my side.
The hacks & actors are pretty and convincing, but it is you & I who shine the lovely light.

The fever hunt rages on, x3
inside my head.
x4

Unrelenting heat. Death: [bad word] dirt. You can't choose.
I am tearing through the obese & subdued.
Gutting and dropping those who try to drag me down.
To see is to suffer. There is no relief. Your heaven on Earth is [bad word] to me.

You can laugh along with the laugh track.
You can wear ambition as disguise.
You can exploit everyone around you.
You can call it a [bad word] to survive.
I hunt with open wounds & sorrow by my side.
The more I see the less I need.

The fever hunt rages on, x3
inside my head.
x3