Some Assembly Required
The album opens with me taking stock: held together with glitches and paperclips, and wired to shut down when things get loud. And yet I was somehow still in the fight, and I wanted to figure out why. Consider it a warning label: this album is more soul-surgery.
Got a handful of glitches and a pocket of static
A core programming loop that's purely traumatic
Got a hardware failure in the part that connects
A pile of good intentions that the system rejects
I've got a martyr's ambition and a coward's defense
And a total conviction it makes perfect sense
To shut down all the engines when the sirens get loud
And disappear completely in the heart of the crowd
Connecting the circuits with paperclips and rust
In a system that's forgotten how to feel, how to trust
So you wanna know the secret? Wanna see how it's done?
How I'm still in the fight when the war is already won?
I'm stackin' up my weaknesses to build 'em to a strength
I'm goin' to impossible and terrifying lengths
Two wrongs don't make it right, that's what I heard 'em say
But three left turns will get you back on the highway
So welcome to the breakdown, the feature and the flaw
The only working engine is my own martial law
It's a patchwork solution, it's a beautiful lie
It's the wreckage of a rocket still trying to fly
Got a scumbag's logic that is selfish and raw
That sees a noble mission and points out the flaw
Says what's the point of fighting if I'm never getting paid?
While another part is screaming from a self-constructed cage
So I take his bitter viewpoint, and the martyr's painful need
And I plant them in the garden like a strange and twisted seed
I water it with boredom and the quiet in my head
And I listen to the silence for the words that can't be said
Connecting the circuits with paperclips and rust
In a system that's forgotten how to feel, how to trust
So you wanna know the secret? Wanna see how it's done?
How I'm still in the fight when the war is already won?
I'm stackin' up my weaknesses to build 'em to a strength
I'm goin' to impossible and terrifying lengths
Two wrongs don't make it right, that's what I heard 'em say
But three left turns will get you back on the highway
So welcome to the breakdown, the feature and the flaw
The only working engine is my own martial law
It's a patchwork solution, it's a beautiful lie
It's the wreckage of a rocket still trying to fly
So read the fine print, check the label on the box
This Rube Goldberg machine is full of aftershocks
And if you see a hero, you're not looking close enough
It's just a desperate man who's calling his own bluff
This is your one-time warning, it's a buyer-beware
There's a ghost in this machine who doesn't play it fair
I'm stackin' up my weaknesses to build 'em to a strength
I'm goin' to impossible and terrifying lengths
Two wrongs don't make it right, that's what I heard 'em say
But three left turns will get you back on the highway
So welcome to the breakdown, the feature and the flaw
The only working engine is my own martial law
It's a patchwork solution, it's a beautiful lie
It's the wreckage of a rocket still trying to fly
Three lefts make a right
Some assembly required
Three lefts make a right
The engine is on fire