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What a waste of a smoke machine Took the taste of the dopamine And left me high and dry Call the cops, call the cavalry Spin the tops that'll dazzle me And give me a new supply There's a layer below, underneath all the layers that I knew So I pay when you go but it only convinces me that you are Good for me Good for Just a little bit of what I need To soothe an appetite that I can't feed Isn't that good for me? Accessorizing before the fact Alibis couldn't stay intact As guilty as a gun So you dig, so you move some earth Tunnel down out of Leavenworth Or set the fuse and run Blasting deep underground, getting down to the Continental Shelf I'll pretend I'm surprised by the lies that I'm telling to myself That you're good for me Good for me Good for Under cover of your rifle fire I slipped the traces and I tripped the wire Isn't that good for me? And in the searchlight I can see The rotors kicking up debris The cloud, the dust, the blades are me Good for me
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