Testi:
Suicide File The

The best and the brightest are rotting away Yesterday's heroes are garbage today We made the wrong choices, we took the wrong paths It's easier now just

In the end what's left Won't be your feathered hair or your fake breasts or your fast food or your slow death. All the rallies and all the marches, All

Quit posing like you're rebellious You boring pieces of shit You're flying the flag of anger when you're generic as white bread hey hey my my why don

Every moment I'm with you Feels like my skin is peeling off so why the fuck do I even try to talk to you. I wish you'd die. And though I say I'd rather

There's a burning cross on a hillside. Still bright after all these years. And you want to just smile and ignore it, but I hear your fucking fear.

Idealism is fucking dead. Laughed off the stage at countless conventions. Laissez faire is en vogue again. It's silver tongue has been heaven sent

Thank you for your bounty. Show what's been destroyed And the skin is unblemished On every girl and boy. The sun shines on you 300 days a year. And life

Wrap your arms around me. I'm fucking freezing, and I just saw napalm in your eyes. Rip off what's left of another day, another crash. I'm not good

The Cul-de-sac jungle is a cruel place. It's a living rotting failure from a different age. And if you're looking for the place that dreams go to die