Testo Green Machine

Why must I want, why must I feel this way
Why must I need it, why must my soul pay
The other day I met a girl, thought I'd stop to say 'hi'
But she was a bitch and she made me cry

It manufactures you, manufactures me
so we can serve it for eternity
round and round it goes, from my head to my toes making us a new god of green

Why she didn't want me, I'll never know
I guess I didn't have enough dough
I sat in my room writing of god
I wrote all night, would you call that odd.