No Lodging for the Mad Songtext
von The Taxpayers

I have been making presentations for a final escalation,
I have been praying to the god of giving up.
She says, "Lock, lock, lock the door behind you now,
Before the criminals and the cops break in your house".
Oh, I have looked so hard for a place where I could die.
But the winners up there of high-end living won′t allow the broken insane to arise.


So fuck this city. Fuck this job.
They cut you down before you even reach the top.
In a god-fearing land, there ain't no lodging for the mad;
You can′t get high enough to breathe before you drown.

I'm gonna go back to that factory, where they make, make, make moving parts
That will take, take, take you very far away.
In the flash of a pack of matches, I will be gone.

So fuck this city. Fuck this job.
They break you down before you even reach the top.
In a god-fearing land, there ain't no lodging for the mad;
You can′t get high enough to breathe
You can′t get high enough to breathe
You can't get high enough to breathe before you drown.