Tillary - Drug Church

A silly thing it eats at me keeps me up I admit

An ugly need you don’t hide I can’t help but to see

Gets you hard makes you wet thrilled to talk and to vent

Let me know tell me twice and again and again

The brutal truth of the thing

Is you need to control to feel free

Your own life it’s a pit luck is late to each event

Job is lame so are friends simple math less than shit

Appoint yourself take an oath rally troops affix a lens

Letter sent lecture held you’re center stage just for a bit

The brutal truth of the thing

Is you need to control to feel free

No Gods No Masters you sing

But you sure love playing police

Mr. Officer

What are my charges?

Mr. Officer

I want to speak in my defense

Mr. Officer

What are my charges?

Mr. Officer

I need the numbers on your badge

I don’t trust you with evidence

Your moves and motives they don’t match

I want to speak in my defense