Lyrics

Cross out the ending: Sunday's coming, Monday Swap in the start, Monday's next to impossible Prone on a glue trap I placed down Only chronic action gnaws me out Ask me anything, even if it's painful Come back on Monday, validate your patience Drain a couple cans in the noon heat Only need the flattery semi-weekly Bandaid on my ego, it's peeling Practice my act on a beam Going on top of our tallest building Drumming as hard as I can I want the power, and my beat is dangerous Puncturing the sky Sunday's coming, Monday Treat me for constant 180s X-ray's in my shape, but it isn't me Circle past the weekend, take my demons swimming again Practice my act on a beam Going on top of our tallest building Drumming as hard as I can I want the power, and my beat is dangerous Yes, I want the power, and I think I'm made for it Clouds across the sky