Nausea

Im a seasick sailor
On a ship of noise
I got my maps all backwards
And my instincts poisoned
In a truth blown gutter
Full of wasted years
Like blown-out speakers
Ringin in my ears
Oh its nausea, oh nausea
And were gone
Its nausea, oh nausea
And were gone
Now Im a straight-line walker
In a black-out room
I push a shopping cart over
In an Aztec ruin
With my minion fingers
Working for some God
Who could see his own reflection
In a parking lot
Oh its nausea, oh nausea
And were gone
No its nausea, oh nausea
And were gone
Now Im a priest teenager
On a tower of dust
Im a dead generator
In a cloud of exhaust
I eat alone in the desert
With skulls for my pets
I rate the days, one to ten
With lead cigarettes
Oh its nausea, oh nausea
And were gone
Nausea, oh nausea
And were gone