Из альбома: The History of Saints
We need your attention
This just may be the end
The end of frustration
Or at least my blinking
At last some ease
God damn I hate these nails
Stuck into my back
Each one is speeding
A meltdown to destruct
My frustration is with everyone I see
I'm slipping - drowning in my hometown
Always incomplete
Damn it listen to me
Trying and trying again
Until the cycle repeats
Always pressure builds
I now hate everyone
I can see my dreams
And they are seeming rather weak
Compared to the lives
Of mid-twenty-year-olds
Smeared across my TV
I'm seeming rather bleak
It's time for solitude
Until the world's redeemed
Of parasite I am to be
I've got it stocked deep
For the day I truly go insane
I can't compete with the world that I live in
Mankind rapes and makes
Institutes out of everything
Inhaling and gulping
Panic is engulfing