1, 2, 3, 4

Now I'm A Seasick Sailor
On A Ship Of Noise
I Got My Maps All Backwards
And My Instincts Poisoned
In A Truth Blown Gutter
Full Of Wasted Years
Like Blown-out Speakers
Ringin' In My Ears

Oh It's Nausea, Oh Nausea
And We're Gone
It's Nausea, Oh Nausea
And We're Gone

Now I'm A Straight-line Walker
In A Black-out Room
I Push A Shopping Cart Over
In An Aztec Ruin
With My Minion Fingers
Working For Some God
Who Could See His Own Reflection
In A Parking Lot

Oh It's Nausea, Oh Nausea
And We're Gone
No It's Nausea, Oh Nausea
And We're Gone

Now I'm A Priest Teenager
On A Tower Of Dust
I'm A Dead Generator
In A Cloud Of Exhaust
I Eat Alone In The Desert
With Skulls For My Pets
I Rate The Days, One To Ten
With Lead Cigarettes

It's Nausea, Oh Nausea
And We're Gone
It's Nausea, Oh Nausea
And We're Gone