made a man out of me a killing machine your baby's gonna die ma your baby is coming home, you know they put a man on the moon simply to prove that we all need someplace to go where we're not known where we're not and to a lesser degree i can recall breathing easy, but the deficit rolls built up i supposed picking up the pieces of another fucked up reason for selling off some freedom that was never free, never absolutely, never absolutely made a mess out of me a killing machine sometimes if i need them, if i look hard enough to see them i can find my feet, so i push against gravity, in and
