Whisper, whisper down each lane.
Everybody’s but to blame.
I don’t know where to go.
I don’t know where to go.
Its unpredictable, the cages are keeping us in.
A self-sufficient ingredient left with dread.
I’m a pot stirrer.
Until the wave hits your shore.
Its kind of you on being friends today.
Tomorrow sorrows on its way down. Down.
Chirping, chirping the chicklets are weak,
for me and Irwin have taste the seeds.
I don’t know where to go. Go.
I’m a pot stirrer.
Until the wave hits your shore.
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