dunsel

and when the underworld's

best kept secrets

saw it's own reflection

i knew things had finally changed

for better or worse

whatever as always

midlife fires start to burn

they burn down our worn protection

i won't take pictures from their frame

whatever as always

when the hands that sold me everything

slapped a price tag on my chest

bit my tongue and shut my mouth

tried to blend in with the rest

but i'm a square peg

i'm a sore thumb

and it seems to me self apathy

kills the life in artistry

{and leaves us} ankle deep in industry

all these songs sound so damn good

even if their meaning's hollow

hollow words dry out your mouth

you might find it hard to swallow

all this shit that we keep feeding

to keep ourselves and you believing

that no money can change us

then a door opens up and some devil persuades us

the songs we sung when we were just young

have all but lost their meaning

but there's still a few things

still a few things

still a few things

that we keep on believing

still a few things

there's still a few things

that we keep on believing

shitty music just ain't worth making

smiles and thank-you's just ain't worth faking

some assholes' hands ain't worth shaking

and if it's not broken we need to break it

there's no such thing as unconditional

though contracts bind you in the end

make no mistake

this is a killing ground

blood hungry and camouflaged as friend

select yes

at the end of this mess

if you get there and if it's your only fucking option left

these days i don't know

the people i'm supposed to trust

and i don't trust these people

that i'm supposed to know

the handlebars on my dreams they slowly start to rust

they'll take everything and somehow you still owe

and as the cocaine cowboys finally get their wings

and sell them all for blow

these days i don't know these people that i'm supposed to trust

and i don't trust these motherfuckers that i'm supposed to know

these handlebars on all my dreams they slowly start to rust

the cocaine cowboys finally get their wings

and they sell them all for blow

they finally get their wings and then they sell them all for blow

i make music for myself

not for hand jobs from the upper-tier or their undeserved wealth

here's to their failing fucking health

i don't mean this in a hateful way

but when the people you love start walking away

the walls get tighter each and every day

take your last bite before it crumbles away

and there's something inside me i just have to say

love nothing

trust no one

just live for the motherfucking day