Из альбома: You're Gonna Miss It All
What do you give someone who's already got one of everything
You thought would be the perfect
Accoutrement to their unnerving temperament?
Attention?
What could a lonely peasant being like myself
Offer a perfect, pleasant savior of humanity,
Redeemer of us sickly-sinning hillbillies?
Attention
Just one more resounding stab at all the others
You've almost blown your cover
But your tracks don't stick
One more bottle should do the trick
Discreetly cleansing the remnants of
Every disdainful quip
We found no escape route
But I know you well enough to hate you now
It seems that you haven't figured that out
What do you call someone who calls you out
On diy ethics you don't embody
As he drains his dad and mommy's monthly data plan?
An asshole with an iphone
I'll admit I'm in the same boat
Caught between my adolescent safety net
And where the world wants me to be
But I'd never use that as an excuse
To treat my friends the way that you treat me
Just one more distorted sad attempt at humor
From the jagged bleeding tumor in our throat
The malignance at best, and quick to address yourself as
Anything other than what we've learned to expect
The patron saints of good god damn
Ill kick myself asleep before I'd shake
That grimy, dirty, russet arrogant hands
So please leave my house