Beck

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