Text:
The Suicide Machines All Out

all comes down, yeah What are you gonna do when they find out about you What are you gonna do when it all comes down ...It all comes down, it all

it's you who hates yourself. It's hard to care when it seems no one else does. And I know how it feels when all the pressure is too real, With all these

we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream At night we ride through the mansions of glory in suicide machines Sprung from cages out

the day we sweat it out in the streets of a runaway American dream At night we ride through mansions of glory in suicide machines Sprung from cages out

day we sweat it out in the streets of a runaway american dream At night we ride through mansions of glory in suicide machines Sprung from cages out on

so lock me in a padded room, straight up, straight out straight jacket doom goin' nuts, insane you see this padded room so leave me be this padded room here all

Oh yeah, critical mass, detonation countdown, July 16th, 1945 This is how we learned to fear the bomb and wonder how we'd all ever make it out alive And

dents in it AND everybody is playing games I don't know what to make of it Don't play your stupid games you know I don't need all that fucked up shit

well everything's got it's 15 minutes I've no idea where it all went bad But I guess you can't tell until you get down in it I told them all I wasn't