Lyrics
You make being a cockroach look so great
How can a goddamn saint be so full of hate?
I still recall the lines upon your face…
Maybe I was born to waste my time
Maybe I’m just not the talking kind
I saw you look at me from across the room
If there’s a death in the family
What’s in it for me?
Could you tell me where to set my feet?
A cigarette burns out in the street
Lick the pavement, taste the apathy
A world of noise never sung so sweet
Every teenager feels like hanging
Every old man feels like finding a way to survive