(The surrealists were just)
Nihilists with good imaginations

I am satisfied hiding in our friend's apartment
Only leaving once a day to buy some groceries
Daylight, I'm so absent minded
Nighttime meeting new anxieties
So am I erasing myself?
Hope I'm not erasing myself

Guess it would be nice to give my heart to a god
But which one which one do I choose?
All the churches fill with losers, psycho or confused
I just want to hold the divine in mine
And forget all of the beauty's wasted

Let's fall back to earth and do something pleasant
We fell back to earth like gravity's bitches
(Physics makes us all its bitches)

Guess it would be nice to help in your escape
From patterns your parents designed
All the party people dancing for the indie star
But he's the worst faker by far
But in the set, I forget all of the beauty's wasted

Guess it could be nice
Show me that things can be nice

You've got my back in the city
You've got my back, 'cause I don't want to panic