This is a song about "Air condition"

Gin makes me sin

About your condition,

And my condition to start violence

So here i am at the store for some chips

That we’ve been confined to, so the corporate won’t make decisions

I'm in a condition of intuitions were life's made up of illusions,

And them which is more of a circus than a fair

I'm out of here, gimme that breath of fresh air

Another 5, eli won't even be there

Got our middle fingers in the air,

I don't even breathe the same air

Those flashing lights come from everywhere

Although my body's in the u.s my heart's there

Spinning like my many rims through the air,

It's not a figure of speech when i tell you that i dumped her

I'm in condition of confusion where's life's stopped in future,