Eyedea and Abilities. Hay Fever

[Eyedea]
I'm not shit, I'm champagne
Let's all go home, kill ourselves and our radios
Where's my head? This isn't mine
Nobody loves a thing, everyone is fucking crazy
In control, it's not my fault
They'll be sorry once I skin them
Scared to life, a painless death
Make sure she knows I love her right before she floats away
I can't hear you, scream's too loud
All my ideas become perfect little