No more doors No more locks No more windows No more box No more No less No more nothingness No more six foot digs No more hypocrites No more emptiness No more consequence No more puppet strings No more disease No more growing up No more happiness No more lying down No more complacence I have, I hold the key, to nothing, it's a small Killing Murder, murders in the hands, of Motion, as it seems to be No more nothing No more anything No more you No more me No more posturing victories No more nations to defeat No more speaking truth No more deceit No more holding down No more pushing me No more new world order No more anarchy I have, I hold the key, to nothing, it's a small Killing Murder, murders in the hands, of motion, as It seems to be I'm washing my hands, of the whole thing I want no more nothing I have, I hold the key, to nothing, it's a small Killing Murder, murders in the hands, of motion, as It seems to be I'm washing my hands, of everything Of everything we are