Space ships can't tame the jungle
And I feel like I'm giving in
We've been drivin' through a desert
Looking for a life to call our own

I push, I pull
The days go slow into a void
We filled with death

And noise that laughs
Falls off their maps, all cured of pain
And doubts in your little brain

Something's coming, sky is purple
Dogs are howling to themselves
Days are changing with the weather
Like a rip tide could rip us away

I push, I pull
The days go slow into a void
We filled with death

And noise that laughs
Falls off their maps, all cured of pain
And doubts in your little brain

I push, I pull
The days go slow into a void
We filled with death

And noise that laughs
Falls off their maps, all cured of pain
And doubts in your little brain

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Beck David Hansen, John Robert King, Michael S. Simpson