without permission

Red.
Red.
Red.
Wicked thoughts inside your mind.
Insider your pants.
Red.
Red.
Red.

No is listening.
Because no one knows what to scream.

Up is blue.
Brown goes down.
Into the green.
But you're stuck at red. red. red.

We keep stealing from ourselves.
Looking for the button that'll turn things on.
But watch out, cause that only leads to uninvited red. (red).

And we keep thinking to ourselves.
Hope we realize soon that naked is the true vintage.
But we won't get to far.

Not with this.
Red.
Red.
Red.

And everybody stops.
Hail the Red! Red! Red!