Exhaustion & Disgust

There is no anger, just growing exhaustion and disgust.

{I} no longer {see} difference between.

A cynicism has been writing itself into my skin and I am sick to death of it.

So let it burn {down} in the front yard along with everything I own,

Piled up and sprayed down with gasoline,

Stoke the embers with the broken necks of my guitars as we dance around in circles

Torch ourselves in effigy, everybody's drunk on their own blood lust.

So are you really listening? I don't want any part of it.

I was worried and upset about what I'm going to do without your genre acceptance,

Then it came to me. (Then it came to me)

You've got to turn your back and abandon it.

I'm taking aim at you as the focus and recipient of judgement,

Your politics are easy to remember, especially when sung along to beats like this.

So here's a dirty little secret about money, here's a dirty little secret about poverty,

Here's a dirty little secret about hunger, another little secret about war and brutality.

There is no romance, no glamour in reality.

What!?

There is no romance, no glamour in reality.