Obsessed with the Excess

Catching whispers on the phone
But the whispers get away
Making entries in our diaries
With all the things we think they say

Can you hear it?
I can't hear it!
Can you see it?
I can't see it!

We've been feeding the vermin
Now they're hanging around
Can't we take back the sermon
That we tossed to the crowd?
Obsessed with the excess
But stuffed with a crumb
The lessons progress less
As professors succumb
They're craving confusion
When starved of sense
And graven confusion
Has been heaven sent

Can you do it?
I can't do it!
This is the way the sick people play:
Hands in their pockets, goose bumps on display
This is the way the well people drink:
Mouths on the spigots of the sick people's sink
In the town square
In the city hall
In the war room
On a conference call
They set the date to drop the bomb
And sit and wait with perfect calm
I wanna do it!

If you call this living
If you call that love
If you'd call the cops before God above
If you'd call the cops before God below
If you call this culture
Then I think you'll know
The stone cold con and the 6-6-6
We're trading our eyeballs in for asterisks
We're trading our idols in for rapprochement
We're burning the bridges that we're crossing on
I wanna do it!