What is here again? I don't remember
what I'm supposed to do. It's December,
so I should be enjoying the snow,
but everything else is breaking the flow.

Now I want to have some nice fun on my own.
Nothing quite like the sun as my hair is
blown
out of all proportion; I don't like this game
that you are playing with me. It's full of pain...

Now I get the idea of what's going on.
Can you translate it though? I don't speak Klingon.
Welcome to a new world—I'm feeling deceptive.
It might reach out to us, but we're not receptive.

Everything is under my control.
Everything is under my control.
Everything is under my control—
wait a sec, nothing is under my control.

Nothing makes sense when you have a part to play that doesn't make pence.
Everything is something that it shouldn't be too hard to fake,
so make your problems here and now before they pile and break the bough;
you can't expect to be infected in your brain now anyhow.
(Holy hell, it's here to stay...)
Nothing makes sense when you have a part to play that doesn't make pence.
(...should've fixed this yesterday.)
Everything is something that it shouldn't be too hard to fake,
(Nothing makes it go around...)
so make your problems here and now before they pile and break the bough;
(Might just fix it anyhow.)
you can't expect to be infected in your brain now anyhow.

(Holy hell, it's here to stay...)
So make your problems here and now
(...should've fixed this yesterday.)
before they pile and break the bough.
(Nothing makes it go around...)
You can't expect to be infected
(Might just fix it anyhow.)
in your brain now anyhow.