Small Town Syndrome

Blew another
Blew another
Blew another gasket
Two in the trunk, one in the back
Fill another
Fill another
Fill another casket
Fuel at the pump and hit the gas

Gotta get out, foot down and go, go, go
Gotta get out or its your funeral
Gotta get out, get out and go go go
This city talks, trust me
Everybody knows

Everybody knows you're a mess
(Get up and go)
Everybody knows
That you wear the blood on your hands
(That's, That's, everybody)
Even your skeletons
Remember what you did
It's not your paranoia
You're in the city of the dead
City of the dead

So take a look outside
The condition
It's small town syndrome
And big time lows

You hardly knew them just avert your eyes
Freeway exit closing, put your foot down and drive

Gotta get out, foot down and go, go, go
Gotta get out or its your funeral
Gotta get out, get out and go go go
This city talks, and I know
Everybody knows

Everybody knows you're a mess
(Get up and go)
Everybody knows
That you wear the blood on your hands
(That's, That's, everybody)
Even your skeletons
Remember what you did
Bloodsucker
Just strap yourself in, motherfucker

Now you're approaching the skyline
And as you shoot through the sunrise
Just think

You gave it all away to feel alone
You gave it all away to feel
And you feel alone
(Even your skeletons
Remember what you did)
Feel alone
(Even your skeletons
Remember what you did)
Feel alone