Lyrics
God damn these shotgun funerals and the shit I have for your blood
Kid, you better wake up
Cause there’s a thousand pounds of lfaming wreckage on the other end of this
car crash of a phone call
And who the fuck is gonna pay for your next good intention?
Wake up
Wake up with a gut full of bad pennies and ground up teeth
Just stay down, kid
Before they tape your mouth off
Fill your lungs with concrete
Black out your family photos
Turn you out to the wolves of parts and labor
Summer is definitely over
So god bless the sensory addicts
Everybody; on the floor
Put down the phone
Yeah put down the phone
Cause i’m your blackout artist
And god damn it suits me so well