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Beck - Nausea
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1, 2, 3, 4

Now I´m a seasick sailor
On a ship of noise
I got my maps all backwards
And my instincts poisoned
In a truth blown gutter
Full of wasted years
Like blown-out speakers
Ringin´ in my ears

Oh it´s nausea, oh nausea
And we´re gone
It´s nausea, oh nausea
And we´re gone

Now I´m a straight-line walker
In a black-out room
I push a shopping cart over
In an Aztec ruin
With my minion fingers
Working for some God
Who could see his own reflection
In a parking lot

Oh it´s nausea, oh nausea
And we´re gone
No it´s nausea, oh nausea
And we´re gone

Now I´m a priest teenager
On a tower of dust
I´m a dead generator
In a cloud of exhaust
I eat alone in the desert
With skulls for my pets
I rate the days, one to ten
With lead cigarettes

It´s nausea, oh nausea
And we´re gone
It´s nausea, oh nausea
And we´re gone