Motions

Paralyzed with possibility, gotta get me out of this mess
New York Times bestseller, rehearsed conversation
Meet me at the tip of the iceberg, and cut me out of my clamshell
Tallow taste on a forked tongue, not my problem

Hell is other people, damned to abject heads
I'll win the devil's favor, I'll wean myself off dread
Reveal your underbelly, I'll hollow out your shell
I spiral in dark patterns
I'm so sick of

Going through the motions
I wanna be the new routine
And I wanna kill the competition
And I wanna run like a machine
I wanna find another way out

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I am not a person
Beyond my success
Beneath my chitin jacket
I wear no human flesh
I only want to eat you
I come with no pretense
I spiral in dark patterns
I'm so sick of

Going through the motions
I wanna be the new routine
And I wanna blend into the background
And I wanna run like a machine

I wanna find
I wanna find
I wanna find
I wanna find
I wanna find

Protect me from what I want