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Snake handler, faith healer lawyer, doctor, sword swallower child psychologist, amateur pornographer Sales associate Six percent commission Do you have our club membership? Can I tell you about the benefits? Photo developing, we see every picture And rob extras of those of the sexual nature There's a shoebox in the back which is storing the duplications Right adjacent to a pile of blank applications And if our patrons weren't so ordinary, I might take up blackmail I'd seize upon the evil if I thought it would be the key to feeling once again But what I can gather from these bins is that People's lives don't provide many pictures worth stealing Just like mine, although plenty get abandoned I've stopped seeking sex to find different kinds of passion Because sometimes amongst the thumbs and out of focus baby shots A candid picture of anger or happiness shows up I know I've been swallowed I can feel the acid eating at my skin I don't want to live in the stomach But I don't want to be shit SongtexteOut into the streets with parts of me partially digested Left here in the beast I know I've been swallowed I can feel the acid eating at my eyes, at my hands, at my friends, at my mind And if I don't die I'm developing quite an appetite I guess I'll have to eat my way back outside I've got it down to where it takes me about an hour To bag the trash and get it out from underneath the counter Lug it up to the dumpster, back behind the shopping center Lost in thought, God it's hot, a ghost inside the register Zombie walking parking lots waiting for my moms to pick me up holding down the vomit in my throat I hope no one I know ever sees me in this state Weeks deep in the belly of the beast named retail I want to yell "help me!" The scream of something's very wrong But everyone will tell me that my battle cry is too banal And way dated No, I can't explain it But I didn't say that they could take What they're exchanging for my paycheck I will not be addicted To cigarettes and scratch-off lotto tickets I'm not satisfied to lie about my clock-out times When I close the store I need something more from this life In the pictures I horde, I find one in every five hundred That makes me feel a little less disgusting The answer must be here, I just haven't found it yet That's why I keep stealing, so I can not forget That I was once whole, I was once real It's just a job, so it's not a big deal, right? So why am I so acutely aware that I'm being digested? Why am I scared at night that I might not survive in this climate? My body's a box, and I'm sealed inside it Why have we decided that we're stuck behind the stomach lining? I'll find a way out, or die trying I'll find a way out, or die trying I'll find a way out, or die trying I'll find a way out, I'll find a way, I'll find a way out or die trying Aus Songtexte Mania