I chase my toil Hammering a nail against the grain of fact I keep on bouncing back Misinformation is passed Look left to the right Always fight or fight I painfully dissect Will never take as read Yet fall back to earth as the wretch Which suits them fucking fine Mister pessimism - a trait we'd all rather Mister pessimism - after this it comes so natural Reserving judgement wounds me time after time Exploitation becomes a daily grind Take a saccharine shot, not to humour these fuckers But the scheming scum have all bases covered Which suits you fucking fine From a catalogue of lies, there is scant protection So you see dependability is force and fiction Which suits you fucking fineTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.