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Incubus
Incubus


Background information
Origin Calabasas, California, United States
Genre(s) Alternative Rock
Alternative Metal
Years active 1991—present
Label(s) Epic Records
Immortal Records
Associated acts The Roots
Website Website
Members
Brandon Boyd
Mike Einziger
Chris Kilmore
Ben Kenney
Jose Pasillas
Former members
Gavin Koppell
Alex Katunich



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  I  →  Incubus  →  Albums  →  S.C.I.E.N.C.E.

Incubus Album


S.C.I.E.N.C.E. (09/09/1997)
09/09/1997
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Calgone (includes hidden track called "Segue 1")
. . .



Imagine your brain as a canister filled with ink yeah
Now think of your body as the pen where the ink resides
Fuse the two; KAPOW! What are you know?
You're the humane magic marker
Won't you please surprise my eyes?!
It's in your nature, you can paint whatever picture you like
No matter what Ted Koppel says on channel 4 tonight
So modify this third rock from the sun
By painting myriads of pictures with the colors of one
I'm sick of painting in black and white
My pen is dry now I'm uptight
So sick of limiting myself to fit your definition
Picture the scene, where whatever you thought, would, in the blink of an eye,
manifest and become illustrated
You'd be sure man that every line drawn reflected a life
That you loved not an existence that you hated
So, must we demonstrate that we can't get it straight?
We've painted a picture, now we're drowning in paint
Let's figure out what the fuck it's about before the picture we painted
Chews us up and spits us out
I'm sick of painting in black and white
My pen is dry, now I'm uptight
So sick of limiting myself to fit your definition

. . .



I'm born I'm alive I breathe
In a moment or two I realize
That the sphere upon which I reside, is asleep on its feet.
Should I go back to sleep?
We orbit the sun I grow up my open eyes see...
A zombified, somnambulist society
Leaving us as vitamins for the hibrating human animal
Do you see what I mean? You stare at me like a vitamin
On the surface you hate but you know you need me
I'll come dressed as any pill you deem fit
Whatever helps you swallow truth all the more easily
And I wonder, will yoou digest me?
Into the sleep machine I won't plug in in fact I'd rather die before I will
comply
To you, my friend, I write the reason I still live
'cause in my mind it's set the vitamin is ripe to give
Coming closer to another 2000 years
You and I will pry the closed eye of the sleep machine

. . .



At first I see an open wound infected and disastrous
It breathes chaotic catastrophe it cries to be renewed
Its tears are the color of anger, they dry to form a scab To touch
It's stiff and resilient, underneath, the new skin breathes
As outwardly cliche as it may seem, yes,
Something under the surface says "C'est la vie"
It is a circle, there is a plan dead skin will atrophy itself to start again
Look closely at the open wound see past what covers the surface
Underneath chaotic catastrophe, creation takes stage
It's all been saved with exception for the right parts
When will we be new skin'
It's all been seen with exception for what could be
When will we be new skin'
Fallacious cognitions spewed from televisions do mold our decisions
So stop and take a look, and you'll see what I see now

. . .



You keep your riches and I'll sew my stiches
You can't make me think like you
Mundane I've got a message for all those who think
That they can etch his words inside my brain T.V., what do I need?
Tell me who to believe! What's the use of autonomy when a button does it all
Who've seen the fuckin eye ache too
It's time to step away from cable train
And when we finally see the subtle light
This quirk in evolution will begin to let us live and recreate T.V.
What should I see? Tell me who should I be?
Let's do our mom a favor and drop a new god off a wall
Let me see past the fatuous knocks
I've gotta rid myself of this idiot box!
Let you see past the feathers and flocks, and help me plant a bomb in this idiot
box!
From the depths of the sea to the tops of the trees to the seat of a lazy boy...

Staring at a silver screen!!

. . .



If I had a dime for everytime you walked away
I could afford to not give a shit and buy a drink and drown the day
But your pockets, they are empty, yeh, and mine are times two
So why not make an about-face and accept the love I send to you?
You're never gonna be content if you font try, try to see outside your line
There you go, you did it again!
You act as if there's binder on your eyes
Should I apologize if what I say burns your ears and stains your eyes?!
Oh, did I crack your shell?
When it falls away, you'll see we exist as well!
Like a bottle with the cork stuck, your true ingrdients trapped inside
Through the cloudy glass we catch a glimse of you
I guess the hard shell represents your pride
Oh, if only it could be different we could uncover the you, you deny
Between two, a small discrepency, one complicates and one simplifies
TAKE THOSE FUCKING BLINDERS OFF YOUR EYES!!
So if I had a dime for every time you walked away
You could bet your bottom dollar that I'd be filthy rich by noon today

. . .


On this page
You see a little girl giggling at a hippopotamus
I wonder why?
Wonder why?
On this page
You see a little girl giggling at a hippopotamus
I wonder why?
Now turn the page
Thank you
On this page
You see a little girl giggling at a hippopotamus
Don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't say things that hurt others
Is it pussy cat?
Pussy cat, pussy cat, pussy cat
Isn't that hippo fat!
Fat, fat, fat, fat, fat, fat, fat, fat, fat, fat
Or shout: Hyena, I hate you!
Hate you, hate you, hate you, hate you, hate you, hate you
I found a sound in the house one day
If you know who lost it,
I'll give it away
Away, give it away, give it away
This sound I found said
This sound belongs to a
Pot, pot, pot
The magic medicine worked!

. . .



A certain shade of green, tell me, is that what you need?
All signs around say move ahead
Could someone please explain to me your ever present lack of speed?
Are your muscles bound by ropes?
Or do crutches cloud your day?
My sources say the road is clear, and street signs guide my way
Are you gonna stand around till 2012 A.D.?
What are you waiting for
A certain shade of green?
I think I grew a gray watching you procrastinate
What are you waiting for
A certain shade of green?
Would a written invitation signed, "Choose now or lose it all," sedate your
hesitation?
Or inflame and make you stall?
You've been raised in limitation, but that glove never fit quite right
The time has come for hand-me-downs, choose anew, please evolve, take flight
What are you waiting for? A written invitation? A public declaration?
A private consolation?

. . .



I'm thinking of my soul's sovereignty and I know everything you hate in me
Fill me up with over-pious badgerings, to throw them up, oh, one of my favorite
things
Remember all the lessons fed to me?
Me the young sponge, so ready to agree
Years have gone
I recognize the walking dead now aware that I'm alive and way ahead
Too bad the things that make you mad are my favorite things
And I'm so happy I see you looking,
I know that you're thinking that I'll never go anywhere
The things that I've done and the things that I've seen
I don't really expect you to care

. . .



I'm home alone tonight
Full moon illuminates my room, and sends my mind alight
I think I was dreaming up some thoughts that were seemingly possible...with you

So I call you on the tin can phone
We rendezvous at a quarter-two, and make sure we're alone
I may have found a way for you and I to finally fly free
When we get there, we're gonna go far away
Making sure to laugh; while we experience anti-gravity
For years, I kept to myself
Now potentialities are bound, and sleeping under my shelf
Simply choose your destination from the diamond canopy, and we'll be there
So I call you on the tin can phone
We rendezvous at a quarter-two, and make sure we're alone
I may have found the way for you and I to finally be free

. . .



Disconnect and let me drift until my upside down is right side in
Society must let the artist go, to wander off into the nebula
Upon return, I conjure what was seen
I let it pulse and boil within my limbs
I lay my pencil to the porous page, and let my lunatic indulge itself
Wander off into your nebula, see your nectarine of multiplicity
Cum like orgasmatron on overdrive
Wander in off to your nebula
Your tangerine of electricity is ripe and on a vine, so pick your prize!
Do you enjoy your sight inside? In little, black book do I confide!

. . .



It's 3 o'clock and we ask ourselves, "Where are we now?"
It seems we've wondered out of bounds again!
Over and over, we ask ourselves
Why we don't utilize things that are stored deep inside of our brains!
I'm on my own and I can't see straight!
Am I so stoned that I can't see straight?
Man, I've got to find my way back home, but I'm too deep inside
It's 4 o'clock and we ask ourselves
"Where did I go wrong? We passed my house at least an hour ago!"
Over and over, we ask ourselves
Why don't we utilize things that are stored deep inside of our brains!
I'm on my own and I can't see straight!
Am I sooo stoned that I can't see straight?
It's 5 o'clock, and we ask ourselves
"We need to get home! The sun is creeping overhead again!"
I'm way too deep inside to go home... I've got to get sane!

. . .



On my way home, police car pulled me over
After they left, I puttered out of gas
Triple-A' came, but my card was expired!
I had to walk home, and of course, it rained half the time
I tried to get some shut-eye, then I was abducted!
They put cold things in my butt
They sampled a bit of my DNA
They left me on top of my sheets
I dreamt I went pottyy, then woke up drenched in me
This day sucked the hardest ever...
I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today
A little bit less than nothing would go my way
I got up to toss my soiled sheets, the hallway was dark and I stubbed my big toe

It was then that I sensed the irony (burning me)
Then I heard the voice say, "Come sail aboard S.S. Nepenthe!"
I suppose I'm the culprit for running out of gas
Let's assume I'm the guy who didn't pay his Triple-A fee
In actuality, I let the zetas probe me
Yesterday was all my fault I let negativity get the better of me
Thank goodness for the bathtubs and suds!
They temporarily set free this quandary

. . .


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