I mewl and crow to fight my way through the snow   And scratch the surface just to find a second surface   I beg the merchants, please   Serve a purpose other than treason   There must be another reason to play these songs   Best known for being bludgeoned into something to own   The money's been bought up   And surely woman, you can feel it   And the music's all washed up   They'd rather sell it than steal it   As the festivals run dry, these whorish children can't look you in the eye   As you turn it out and turn them into something beautiful   For the party of the century is still looking for a reason to behave   The money's been bought up   And surely woman, you can feel it   And the scene, it's all washed up   They'd rather sell it than steal it   As the festivals run dry, sweet whorish children, please look them in the eye   As they turn you out and turn you into something less than beautiful again