Nausea

I'm 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
Ringing in my ears

Oh it's nausea
Oh nausea
And we're gone

It's nausea
Oh nausea
And we're gone

Now I'm 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 it's nausea
Oh nausea
And we're gone

No it's nausea
Oh nausea
And we're gone

Now I'm a priest teenager
On a tower of dust
I'm 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 it's nausea
Oh nausea
And we're gone

Nausea
Oh nausea
And we're gone