Idle Hands - Fatso Jetson

I know you’re reaching when you’re stealing those lines

Dramatic fragments of the darkest of times

Have and had it, you’re hoping for rain

There’s no inspiration while you circle the drain

Sunny driver, the sun in your eyes

Kills our grinding, ignoring the signs

Burns and branded, we’re stuck in the sand

At least I can hold you with these idle hands

You say you’re loyal to the royal palms

Brilliant brother, sucker you can do no wrong

Shape shifting in the painted hills

One brunt hurt her with the heart cheap thrills