No Panic
Handguns
Spinning like a dead rat on its wheel
Under the influence, we carry concealed
Dying to crop out the angst that we feel
Quarter life crisis, now we crack and we peel
Pack it up, pick it up, and throw it all away
Pick it up, pack it up, and smoke it all away
Pack it up, pick it up, and throw it all away
Pick it up, pack it up, and smoke it all away