S.C.I.E.N.C.E. Lyrics

Redefine

Imagine your brain as a canister filled with ink,
yeah, now think of your body as the pen where the ink resides.
Fuse the two; KAPOW! What are you now?
You're the human magic marker,
won't you please surprise my eyes?!
It's in your nature, you can paint whatever picture you like.
no matter what Ted Koppel says on channel 4 tonight.
So modify this third rock from the sun,
by painting myriads of pictures with the colors of one.
I'm sick of painting in black and white
my pen is dry, now I'm uptight
So sick of limiting myself to fit your definition.
Picture the scene, where whatever you thought,
would, in the blink of an eye, manifest and become illustrated.
You'd be sure man that every line drawn
reflected a life that you loved
not an existence that you hated.
So, must we demonstrate that we can't get it straight?
We've painted a picture, now we're drowning in the paint.
Let's figure out what the f*** it's about,
before the picture we painted chews us up and spits us out.
I'm sick of painting in black and white
my pen is dry, now I'm uptight.
So sick of limiting myself to fit your definition.
Redefine.

Vitamin

I'm born
I'm alive
I breathe.
In a moment or two I realize, that the sphere,
upon which I reside,
is asleep on its feet.
should I go back to sleep?
We orbit the sun
I grow up
my open eyes see...
A zombified, somnambulist society.
Leaving us as vitamins for the
hibernating human animal.
Do you see what I mean?
You stare at me like I'm a vitamin.
On the surface you hate,
but you know you need me.
I'll come dressed as any pill you deem fit.
Whatever helps you swallow truth all the more easily.
And I wonder, will you digest me?
Into the sleep machine I won't plug in,
in fact I'd rather die before I will comply.
To you, my friend, I write the reason I still live,
'cause in my mind it's set;
the vitamin is ripe to give.
Coming closer to another 2000 years;
you and I will pry the closed eye of the sleep machine.

New Skin

At first I see an open wound infected and disastrous.
It breathes chaotic catastrophe,
it cries to be renewed.
Its tears are the color of anger,
they dry to form a scab.
To the touch, it's stiff and resilient,
underneath, the new skin breaths.
As outwardly cliché as it may seem,
yes, something under the surface says, "C'est la vie."
It is a circle, there is a plan,
dead skin will atrophy itself to start again.
Look closely at that open wound,
see past what covers the surface.
Underneath chaotic catastrophe,
creation takes the stage.
It's all been saved,
with the exception for the right parts.
When will we be new skin?
It's all been seen,
with the exception for what could be.
When will we be new skin?
Fallacious cognitions spewed from televisions
do mold our decisions.
So stop and take a look,
and you'll see what I see now.

Idiot Box

You keep your riches and I'll sew my stitches,
you can't make me think like you, mundane.
I've got a message for all those who think that they
can etch his words inside my brain.
T.V., what do I need?
Tell me who to believe!
What's the use of autonomy when a button does it all?
So listen up, glisten up closely all,
who've seen the f***in' eye ache too.
It's time to step away from cable train.
And when we finally see the subtle light,
this quirk in evolution will begin to let us live and recreate.
T.V., what do I need?
Tell me who to believe!
What's the use of autonomy when a button does it all?
T.V., what should I see?
Tell me who should I be?
Let's do our mom a favor and drop a new god off a wall.
Let me see past the fatuous knocks,
I've gotta rid myself of this idiot box!
Let you see past the feathers and flocks,
and help me plant a bomb in this idiot box!
From the depths of the sea to the tops of the trees
to the seat of a lazy boy...
staring at a silver screen!

Glass

If I had a dime for every time you walked away,
I could afford to not give a shit
and buy a drink and drown the day.
But your pockets, they are empty,
yeh, and mine are times two.
So why not make an about-face,
and accept the love I send to you?
You're never gonna be content if you don't try,
try to see outside your line.
There you go, you did it again!
You act as if there's blinders on your eyes.
Should I apologize if what I say burns your ears
and stains your eyes?!
Oh, did I crack your shell?
When it falls away, you'll see we exist as well!
Like a bottle with the cork stuck,
your true ingredients trapped up inside.
Through the cloudy glass we catch a glimpse of you,
I guess the hard shell represents your pride.
Oh, if only it could be different,
we could uncover the you, you deny.
Between two, a small discrepancy,
one complicates and one simplifies.
TAKE THOSE F***ING BLINDERS OFF YOUR EYES!!
So if I had a dime for every time you walked away,
you could bet your bottom dollar that
I'd be filthy rich by noon today.

Magic Medicine

(Instrumental)

A Certain Shade Of Green

A certain shade of green,
tell me, is that what you need?
All signs around say move ahead.
Could someone please explain to me
your ever present lack of speed?
Are your muscles bound by ropes?
Or do crutches cloud your day?
My sources say the road is clear,
and street signs point the way.
Are you gonna stand around till 2012 A.D.?
What are you waiting for, a certain shade of green?
I think I grew a gray watching you procrastinate.
What are you waiting for, a certain shade of green?
Would a written invitation signed,
"Choose now or lose it all," sedate your hesitation?
Or inflame and make you stall?
You've been raised in limitation,
but that glove never fit quite right.
The time has passed for hand-me-downs,
choose anew, please evolve, take flight.
What are you waiting for?
A written invitation?
A public declaration?
A private consolation?

Favorite Things

I'm thinking of my soul's sovereignty,
and I know everything you hate in me.
Fill me up with over-pious badgerings, to throw them up,
oh, one of my favorite things.
Remember all the lessons fed to me?
Me the young sponge, so ready to agree.
Years have gone; I recognize the walking dead,
now aware that I'm alive and way ahead.
Too bad the things that make you mad
are my favorite things.
And I'm so happy.
I see you looking, I know that you're thinking
that I'll never go anywhere.
The things that I've done and the things that I've seen,
I don't really expect you to care.

Summer Romance (Anit-Gravity LoveSong)

I'm home alone tonight.
Full moon illuminates my room, and sends my mind aflight.
I think I was dreaming up some thoughts
that were seemingly possible...with you.
So I call you on the tin can phone.
We rendezvous at a quarter-two, and make sure we're alone.
I may have found a way for you and I to finally fly free.
When we get there, we're gonna go so far away.
Making sure to laugh; while we experience anti-gravity.
For years, I kept it to myself.
Now potentialities are abound, and sleeping under my shelf.
Simply choose your destination from the diamond canopy,
and we'll be there.
So I call you on the tin can phone.
We rendezvous at a quarter-two, and make sure we're alone.
I may have found a way for you and I to finally be free.

Nebula

Disconnect and let me drift,
until my upside down is right side in.
Society must let the artist go,
to wander off into the nebula.
Upon return, I conjure what was seen.
I let it pulse and boil within my limbs.
I lay my pencil to the porous page,
and let my lunatic indulge itself.
Wander off into your nebula, see your nectarine of multiplicity
cum like orgasmatron on overdrive!
Wander in off to your nebula,
your tangerine of electricity is ripe and on a vine,
so pick your prize!
Do you enjoy your sight inside?
In little, black book do I confide.

Deep Inside

It's 3 o'clock, and we ask ourselves,
"Where are we now?"
It seems we've wondered out of bounds again!
(Over and over, we ask ourselves why we don't utilize
things that are stored deep inside of our brains!)
I'm on my own and I can't see straight!
Am I so stoned that I can't see straight?
Man, I've got to find my way back home but I'm too deep inside.
It's 4 o'clock, and we ask ourselves,
"Where did we go wrong?
We passed my house at least an hour ago!"
Over and over, we ask ourselves why we don't utilize
things that are stored deep inside of our brains!
I'm on my own and I can't see straight?
Am I sooo stoned that I can't see straight?
It's 5 o'clock, and we tell ourselves,
"We need to get home!
The sun is creeping overhead again!"
I'm way too deep inside to go home...
I've got to get sane!

Calgone

On my way home, police car pulled me over.
After they left, I puttered out of gas.
'Triple-A' came, but my card was expired!
I had to walk home, and of course, it rained half the time.
I tried to get some shut-eye, then I was abducted!
They put cold things in my butt.
They sampled a bit of my D.N.A.
They left me on top of my sheets,
I dreamt I went potty, then woke up drenched in me.
This day sucked the hardest ever...
I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.
A little bit less than nothing would go my way.
I got up to toss my soiled sheets,
the hallway was dark and I stubbed my big toe.
It was then that I sensed the irony (burning me),
then I heard a voice say,
"Come sail aboard S.S. Nepenthe!"
I suppose I'm to blame for getting pulled over.
I guess I'm the culprit for running out of gas.
Let's assume I'm the guy who didn't pay his 'Triple-A' fee.
In actuality, I let the zetas probe me.
Yesterday was all my fault.
I let negativity get the better of me.
Thank goodness for the bathtubs and suds!
They temporarily set free this quandary.