guillotines in arbour park

spitting venom with a forked tongue

and a tone turning roses black

no personality and no substance

it's volatile and dangerous

it's fucking sad

we make the best and run

the gauntlet of violence

over-perfumed fucks who'll never have

the privilege of friends

who bridge every gap

your hands kiss cheeks with fists formed

these hands were made to punch this fret board

your hands kiss cheeks with fists formed

these hands were made to punch this fret board

your hands kiss cheeks with fists formed

these hands were made to punch this fret board

your hands kiss cheeks with fists formed

these hands were made to punch this fret board