I meant to come back to put out bliss
But the style's crumbling, covered, canned
It was sick and no you don't even know how it comes
And sifts then gets ruined by you fucking slobs

It's classical, anyway

I can't help it, it makes me so sick
Over and over, it sits stiff
Bound with no heart, fine 'cause this is where the separation starts arising
I can see it coming over your cloud

It's classical, anyway
How cool are you I remember

I feel sick, I feel sick, I feel sick, I feel sick

Just a bad call, it's so funny
How you think I'm so serious, but that's not it
The thing is I don't give enough to give a fuck
You're just plain boring and you bore me asleep

It's classical, anyway
How cool are you, I remember

I feel sick, I feel sick, I feel sick, I feel sick

Feel sickened, feel sickened, feel sickened, feel sickened, feel sickened, feel sickened
I feel sick

And who the fuck are you anyway, you fuck?
It's making sick sense seeing how you're sticking out
Hardly and hoping money please arise up off the fucking knees
And hop off the train for a second and try to find your own fucking heart

It's classical, anyway
How cool are you, I remember

I feel sick, I feel sick, I feel sick, I feel sick

Feel sickened, feel sickened, feel sickened, feel sickened, feel sickened, feel sickened

(I feel sick, in my head) I feel sick

Copyright: Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Abe Cunningham, Chi Cheng, Chino Camilo Moreno, Stephen Carpenter