November morning, rise up from this bed of dirt. Thoughts of failure run past as I grieve and wither. Drag my nails through this calloused skin. My mind once bright, now it's turning dim. We're out again, poor and looking bad. Holding onto hope, walking a blind whores path. Your issue isn't mine to have, yet my money falls in your hands. Pretty much just a fucking joke, a press release told me to tie a noose. What is this gospel, of vanity and malice. Nothing's changing, misery still drags me down. No matter where I turn, I sink below the sea. I rise with my broken back, please lead me on again. I have all the time for you to fuck me 'til I love you. Pathetic vulture, I bare only malice for you. I'll spit in your fucking face, beat you black and blue. So bold, bearded and blind, your advocacy for greed keeps you alive. I rise with my broken back, lead me on again, bend my body. The devil has a black flag tattoo, and he pretends he fucking likes you. Sign the contract, give your life away. We the artist, the drinking well. From your gaping mouth the water spills. Have another drink, on us, the poor and broke. Pathetic vulture, I bare only malice for you. Take another drink. Pathetic vulture, lead me on again. Pathetic vulture, I bare only malice for you. Spit in my face, black and blueTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
