| Song | Spit on It |
| Artist | The Icarus Line |
| Album | Penance Soiree |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| This is a list in no particular order of the things that can keep a man stuck inside the fear of outside. | |
| The cannibal clerks that make mistakes only to blame themselves on you. | |
| Grease in the palms of giant companies that should be building bombs. | |
| Fastback frills that curdle over weeks give me the chills. | |
| Prevent awareness! | |
| Lost advice generously spilling from the mouths of decrepit casualties who save their souls from forces that breed control. | |
| It wasn’t always this way. | |
| Industry slaves catch the wave that kills art for pay. | |
| I’m gonna feed you your children and eat from your bowl. | |
| Sorely sought sounds more like poorly taught. | |
| Prevent awareness! | |
| Weather and feather. | |
| Ignored and vilified. | |
| This ain’t no list. | |
| There ain’t no order. | |
| Keep your head stuck inside. | |
| Fear of outside. | |
| You’re stuck on inside. | |
| You suck on inside. | |
| Let’s go out. |
| This is a list in no particular order of the things that can keep a man stuck inside the fear of outside. | |
| The cannibal clerks that make mistakes only to blame themselves on you. | |
| Grease in the palms of giant companies that should be building bombs. | |
| Fastback frills that curdle over weeks give me the chills. | |
| Prevent awareness! | |
| Lost advice generously spilling from the mouths of decrepit casualties who save their souls from forces that breed control. | |
| It wasn' t always this way. | |
| Industry slaves catch the wave that kills art for pay. | |
| I' m gonna feed you your children and eat from your bowl. | |
| Sorely sought sounds more like poorly taught. | |
| Prevent awareness! | |
| Weather and feather. | |
| Ignored and vilified. | |
| This ain' t no list. | |
| There ain' t no order. | |
| Keep your head stuck inside. | |
| Fear of outside. | |
| You' re stuck on inside. | |
| You suck on inside. | |
| Let' s go out. |
| This is a list in no particular order of the things that can keep a man stuck inside the fear of outside. | |
| The cannibal clerks that make mistakes only to blame themselves on you. | |
| Grease in the palms of giant companies that should be building bombs. | |
| Fastback frills that curdle over weeks give me the chills. | |
| Prevent awareness! | |
| Lost advice generously spilling from the mouths of decrepit casualties who save their souls from forces that breed control. | |
| It wasn' t always this way. | |
| Industry slaves catch the wave that kills art for pay. | |
| I' m gonna feed you your children and eat from your bowl. | |
| Sorely sought sounds more like poorly taught. | |
| Prevent awareness! | |
| Weather and feather. | |
| Ignored and vilified. | |
| This ain' t no list. | |
| There ain' t no order. | |
| Keep your head stuck inside. | |
| Fear of outside. | |
| You' re stuck on inside. | |
| You suck on inside. | |
| Let' s go out. |