Slowly Growing Deaf — Mr Bungle

As the congregation grows The lung of solitude deflates To my ears the greatest sin Feel a bit like Beethoven

Simultaneous they speak unbeknownst Exiled to the inner voice, difference is... He had no choice

We can't seem to find the air To get our message through your heads Poor respiration is sure To keep clear communication obscure

As if I should care As if you are listening out there

The louder you speak the more I can hear The less I can understand Pound on it, pound it in To my ears the greatest sin Feel a bit like Beethoven

Paint my lungs so silently The darkest color of your noise A crowd will contradict it's own audibility Can't hear the dialogue for the voice

No one is listening Yet ears are ringing

Ears are ringing...

In the morning I will see What you were trying to say to me As I respond into the sink Need not again hear myself think

Ears are ringing...

Wax within my ears has grown Just like the snot inside my nose My interpretation of distorted conversation

I will kill for isolation Sacrifice the energy To enjoy the breath of silence When the blood comes naturally

I have chosen to plug my nose Before the threshold of pain has grown Mole out from society Survive off my soliloquy

Removed I can speak as he has Bleeding from nose throat and ears