I hate the idea of tinsel
Who the fuck wants to fake icicles?
It's cold enough 'round these parts
I sketched some blueprints of castles
But who the fuck wants to build them
Ruins are after all quite the tourist attraction
And I hate people
I hate talking to anyone other than you
Cause you're not listening
Your just taking the piss
God went away so we could be children of men
Ring around the rosie a pocket full of nothing
But we empty them anyways
We empty them any way
Empty them for all to see
If we're working with nothing
It's somehow now comforting to beg for our own charity
So beg beg beg beg beg to become whole
Beg beg beg beg beg to be humble
Beg beg beg beg beg beg beg to be civil
Nah, we're just fucking rats but you haven't killed us off just yet
we're crawling around
learning to love this ground
something about just how filthy we get somehow potions the notion to never regret
where we came from
Home
its just four walls
and some ceiling
but it feels warm
doesn't it?
Death
it's just shut eye
it's only sleeping
but it feels cold
doesn't it?
Beg beg beg beg beg beg beg to be alone
I just got a new candy van
I'm gonna let the kids taste my stuff
They will come running foaming at the mouth
For another taste of the crutch
Now I'm crushing on the wide eyes of doubt
The eyes in the back of your head turn around
to catch eyes at the foot of your grave looking down
I left flowers to wilt and rot
Seemed appropriate
I just got a new candy van
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