I didn't write the rules you know, I merely redefined Fucking torture I can't stand the sights to see Blank space covers their eyes Common cuss is barely alive Slow erosion I hate the scene, hate the feel All your days been numbered clearly, I bit down choked on your failure No explosion can crease the fear Alluring skies Busting rails and I've punctured my head Big city rat the race A country boy immersed in grace Slow convulsions I hate the scene hate the feel All your days been numbered clearly, I bit down choked on your failure This ain't no howling cry, this is a guiding hand Striking you down, while slowly sinking Fall into the wall Crawl under the hall
