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letra de paint job - appetite

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while the men in the jump suits are painting the fronts of my doors, i can slip back to dream land and see where my brain wants to roam. but the jumpsuits are in there aligning the desks into rows and the white light’s reflecting the paint that they spilled on the floor. his name is my brain, playing a game, never the same, like roaming around the front yard, but i’ll never win, i’ll never lose, never can do it over again if it’s hard, the towering wall is getting small, now i can call and barter my passage across, the foreign terrain of every brain, always the same but i always seem to get lost. when i think that i’m sleeping i’m actually riding my bike, if it turns out i’m dreaming, then how come it’s one i don’t like? the back break is broken and the tires are cracking apart. if my paint job is fading it shouldn’t be breaking my heart. his name is my brain…

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