The Bad Apples
You've got nothing to live for you're a plague
A filthy fucking drain on the world
And everything it holds.
So I stopped talking to myself it's getting old
I'm getting old like this song.
So fall in line or fall apart and die.
Just go give up hope,
Sink your boat along with you.
So what are you gonna do?
Oh is it me or is your status sold at the mall
Or in your favorite store
Where adolescent hypocrites would go to get clothed
And then get laid, as they creep their way
Into some girl that would feel vain if she said:
Go give up hope and sink your boat along with you.
So what are you gonna do when you lose control?
You'll get it.
When you lose it all.
You'll get it, get it.