You're stabbing the backs

of the ones that are holding you up

And maybe it doesn't matter

but it just seems so clear to me

that they don't care that it hurts to breathe

They don't know and they can't see

that the songs you own make your heart beat

The breakdown, the stitches, broken lives

and no one knows what we're going through

There is a difference between

what you've earned and what you deserve

And as long as you are living well

Our sweat can drip straight to Hell



Prove me wrong

Prove you give a fuck

About the sound, about the words

Prove that we've crossed your mind

on some term besides numbers

There's no loyalty

There's no fucking ethics here



It's not the message that keeps you here