Idiot In The Helmet (Off To Mars)

[Intro] [Instrumental Build] [Spoken Intro] Yeah. You ever get the urge to just... leave the keys on the counter and walk? Not to the corner store. Not to another state. Just completely off the map. Sounds nice, until you realize who has to pack the bags. [Verse 1] The transmission is slipping, the radiator’s clanking The checking is overdrawn and the credit score is tanking Got a stack of pink envelopes sitting by the toaster And my temper’s going up and down like a rollercoaster I’m tired of the neighbors, I’m tired of the lawn Tired of waking up exhausted before the crack of dawn Everybody’s got an angle, everybody wants a piece I just want a quiet corner where the chatter’s gonna cease Man, I can’t even keep a plastic ficus in the kitchen Without finding a reason to spend the morning bitching. [Instrumental Pause] [Verse 1 Continued] So I’m looking at the sky, thinking 'bout a clean slate Somewhere past the reach of the collection agency’s weight Strap me to a booster, shoot me out the atmosphere I guarantee I'll unpack all my bullshit when I'm up there. [Pre-Chorus] Trade the busted muffler for a capsule in the dark Looking for a place where the dogs don't bark Counting down the seconds till the engines finally catch... [Chorus] Leave the dishes in the sink, I’ll be off to Mars! Running from the landlord, hiding out among the stars! You can buy a ticket out, seal the biodome! But you’re still locked inside the helmet with the idiot from home! Yeah, I’ll be off to Mars! [Instrumental Break] [Verse 2] I used to think moving across town would fix the rot New zip code, new couch, same knot in the gut I got Now you got these tech dorks in their fleece vests on the screen Selling red dirt like it’s a brand new washing machine Talking 'bout a colony, a backup for the human race Like a billion bucks in rocket fuel can help you save face What a load of horseshit, pour the bottom-shelf gin You can't outrun the skin that you’re currently sitting in Even if I hit the powerball and bought a window seat I’d still be bringing every single habit from the street Six months in a tin can eating paste out of a sack Just to step out on a crater and have a panic attack. [Instrumental Interlude] [Bridge] Geography don't cure the mess, it only shifts the view. You bring the septic tank everywhere you go with you. Fly a hundred million miles away from all the noise... Just to sit inside the quiet with the things that you destroy. [Final Chorus] Leave the dishes in the sink, I’ll be off to Mars! Running from the landlord, hiding out among the stars! You can buy a ticket out, seal the biodome! But you’re still locked inside the helmet with the idiot from home! Yeah, you're still stuck with yourself! [Outro] Yeah. Keep your rocket ship. I’m gonna stay right here and fix the sink. Or at least stare at it for another week. Ugh, might as well go take a walk... Fuzz, lets get out of here... [Instrumental outro] [End]