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