Hey, run back home to New York City

'Cause you can't hang with the big boys here in San Francisco

You say we're evil, you say we're rude

You say we're selfish, you say we're cold

You say we're angry, you say we're lost

You say, you say a lot of things



Hey, run back home to New York City

'Cause you can't hang with the big boys here in San Francisco

We say you're weak, we say you're wrong

We say you're drunk, we say you're hopeless

We say you're whining, we say you're broken

We say, we say a lot of things



A papercut through the eye

Would never be as painful as the drivel that you keep on throwing at us



The Phantom of the City tells us all the secrets that you hold

The same ones that you use as fodder for your drama episode

Do you really think that we care of what you've done, just look at us

We might be evil but we're sure not hypocrites, just look at us



A papercut through the eye

Would never be as painful as the drivel that you keep on throwing at usThanks to sweetslyrics@coinoprevenge.com