The product Of weak-willed faux-ambition Now The breaking Foundations half-constructed in shit
The promise An act of restoration Tarnished and blemished By those who dare not the paths of the sun
Never-ending Prosperity You will not strive to build it Now A reckoning Damning all For failing to reach for the sky
By the end of all of the corners you've cut There you stand A half-assed nothing Claiming something Real
Soul dysentery You swill in it The filth of it It's all over your hands Your lips And leaking out of your brain
We will Live To see the end Of all this fake impunity Then we'll claw out our eyes Wishing to weep for our lies
These pillars of shit Aren't worth the tears We wipe yet remain... Yet remain unclean
Your Weak will Your Trite mind Self Aggrandized Sloth King-sized
Ever the proud Self-congratulatory Basked in the pale glow of mediocre Stool
Your weak will Is ripe for the crushing Your trite mind Is ripe for the washing These bloated bowels Are ripe for the flushing Are sore from the scrubbing With shredded excuse for a wipe
No amount of diluted pulp Can sop it up Can save you from Shitting your life away
Frantically You try To cover up To staunch it up with nothing more than paper-thin Poor excuses
To soak it up The mess Sprayed from an anus That's pulsing and heaving A watery goo Saturated with regret Of dreams only dreamed Goals only set Never attained NoTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
