[Produced By: Dirty Dike]

[Verse 1]
Big dogs order chaos, close the curtains and dine
And it’s fine but saving the world is a crime
While sinners circle the shrine
And the tin army keep the wooden workers in line
Chop, chop, dig, dig, until there’s nothing left
Knock, knock, who’s there? Probably death
Found a sense of humor and lost your breath
Laughing then, back in ten, worry not, practice zen
While screaming "fuck the cops"
The only advice I’ve got is, live and stay positive
But keep the receipts for any props you give
Until the witch hunt's heading to where them corporate bosses live
Political agitator getting stoned like the Sabbath breaker
Money is the root of all evil
And I see the fascinators we call people
What did the postmortem say?
They switched him off cause he awoke all the way
Don’t answer any phone calls today
Before it’s eight o’clock in the morning, pray

[Chorus] (x2)
We make it past eight o’clock in the morning, pray
We make it past eight o’clock in the morning, pray
I make it past eight o’clock in the morning, pray
They are the predator you’re the prey
[Verse 2]
It’s a still summers day but it sounds like autumn
When I’m walking on the remains of memory lane
Like dry leaves that crunch beneath me feet
But when you look it’s just the concrete cooking in the heat
On a long and lonely street, without a soul to greet
Or a dog to show its teeth
I think aloud and address a none existent crowd and talk frank
And prior to this moment it’s all blank
And these empty thoughts are intricate
You can see the air forcing itself around you as you’re walking into it
Feel it tingling from your toes to your fingertips
Only in death will you understand what existence is
But between me and you, life is like
Flickering lights in the rear view
An incessant need for new
A constant redrafting of the morals we adhere too
Then one day you’ll awake in the same place
No one around no trace of life that isn’t past tense to grace your sight
And with the click of your fingers day is night
Switch the full spectrum on and off as you please
No Gods to drop to your knees too

[Bridge]
Chop, chop, dig, dig
Chop, chop, dig, dig
[Chorus]
We make it past eight o’clock in the morning, pray
We make it past eight o’clock in the morning, pray
I make it past eight o’clock in the morning, pray
They are the predator you’re the prey

[Outro]
Chop, chop, dig, dig
Chop, chop, dig, dig