Haven't I heard this before? Your moves are straight out
Fingers crossed on failure
We've become obsessed with our own demise
Snapshots
Remove yourself from the set-up.
Their desires are suicide.
Yours
There's no need to put a price on my head
You were right when you said 'murder the sons of
A waking hell of servitude, I'd rather put a fork
When you define yourself by only one thing, that's a
If you're not stealing from your job you're a fucking
This chorus will never sound again
Buried in silence
Extinguished like memories
You've got to start and you've got to start now,
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