The fear of the feeling of fire, heuristics, of crossing the wires
You ask me a question
I turn around, say nothing
Why?
If we were a relative thing (unconscious malfunction; a trick of the brain) assumptions
Since I'd been a child would start to collapse and lead to denial
Contemplation is a dangerous trip
If the ego dies, does the self still exist?
I don't think so
Contemplation is a dangerous trip
If the ego dies, does the self still exist?
I don't think so
It's falling apart
And by 'it', I mean everything
Long black shroud, is covering everything
It's covering everything
Why theorize?
The future is death
Infinitive. To be without the flesh
Make content for fascists
Complex abstraction
Hey. Shutup. Listen to me
Hey. Shutup. Listen to me
Contemplation is a dangerous trip
If the ego dies, does the self still exist?
I don't think so
Contemplation is a dangerous trip
If the ego dies, does the self still exist?
I don't think so
Maybe, it never did though
Maybe, it never did though
The fear of the feeling of fire, heuristics, of crossing the wires
You ask me a question
I turn around, say nothing
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Spacecult - Content for the Fascists Lyrics
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The fear of the feeling of fire, heuristics, of crossing the wires
You ask me a question
I turn around, say nothing
Why?
If we were a relative thing (unconscious malfunction; a trick of the brain) assumptions
Since I'd been a child would start to collapse and lead to denial
Contemplation is a dangerous trip
If the ego dies, does the self still exist?
I don't think so
Contemplation is a dangerous trip
If the ego dies, does the self still exist?
I don't think so
It's falling apart
And by 'it', I mean everything
Long black shroud, is covering everything
It's covering everything
Why theorize?
The future is death
Infinitive. To be without the flesh
Make content for fascists
Complex abstraction
Hey. Shutup. Listen to me
Hey. Shutup. Listen to me
Contemplation is a dangerous trip
If the ego dies, does the self still exist?
I don't think so
Contemplation is a dangerous trip
If the ego dies, does the self still exist?
I don't think so
Maybe, it never did though
Maybe, it never did though
The fear of the feeling of fire, heuristics, of crossing the wires
You ask me a question
I turn around, say nothing
You ask me a question
I turn around, say nothing
Why?
If we were a relative thing (unconscious malfunction; a trick of the brain) assumptions
Since I'd been a child would start to collapse and lead to denial
Contemplation is a dangerous trip
If the ego dies, does the self still exist?
I don't think so
Contemplation is a dangerous trip
If the ego dies, does the self still exist?
I don't think so
It's falling apart
And by 'it', I mean everything
Long black shroud, is covering everything
It's covering everything
Why theorize?
The future is death
Infinitive. To be without the flesh
Make content for fascists
Complex abstraction
Hey. Shutup. Listen to me
Hey. Shutup. Listen to me
Contemplation is a dangerous trip
If the ego dies, does the self still exist?
I don't think so
Contemplation is a dangerous trip
If the ego dies, does the self still exist?
I don't think so
Maybe, it never did though
Maybe, it never did though
The fear of the feeling of fire, heuristics, of crossing the wires
You ask me a question
I turn around, say nothing
Writer: Justin Turner
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid