even for an eggshell
menzingers, the
somethings rotten in the state of denmark
so lick your lips and mend your hair
this mess wont make a difference here
well get me out of this shell
the nights about wearing thin
and i never wanted this day to end
moral fibers split till they're grey
and the gravedigger laughs as we waste away
a contest and the trick tip marks the end
mistaken thirst quenched with this cup
the kiss of death from rotten lips
they sell better homes than these