Vacation
The Orwells
The failed promises that took you far
Now you got, awaiting enemies in your backyard
Stepping from face to face to make your mark, runnin' up
A human staircase to a dying star
Turn off your television
Your permission kills civilians
No one can feel your vision
They're on vacation, masturbating
Could be a better a way to right these wrongs
Than drinking heavily and writing songs
These possibilities that plague your mind
Some better kept, some better left behind
Turn off your television
Your permission kills civilians
No one can feel your vision
They're on vacation, masturbating
Call off your reservations
Sell your soul for useless children
Arrange the information
Decimate the population