Cut it out your self-inflicted pain is getting too routine the fans are catching on to the self-afflicted song so here we go again: the anabashed weak fall in love to fail to boost your cd sales and that cd sells yeah what a hit you've got to repeat it you gotta sink to swim
first you don't, you don't succeed you gotta recreate your misery you all know art is hard yeah, the artists have gotta starve try and fail and try again the comforts of repetition keep churning out those hits till it's all the same old shit
oh, a second verse well, color me fatigued i'm hiding in the leaves of the cd jacket sleeves tired of entertaining some double-deaf meaning a soft served analogy those drunken, angry slurs yeah, thirty one letters
gotta sink, gotta sink, gotta sink to swim emerse yourself in rejection regurgitate some sorry tale about a boy who sells his love affairs gotta fake fake fake the pain gotta make make make the scene gotta break break break a leg when you get on stage and they scream your name: oh kasher, he's so cool
gotta sink gotta sink gotta sink to swim the person the grave to exist cuz we all know art is hard and we don't know who we are Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
