Old habits
Die hard
For posh boys
Teaching guitar
Big mouth
Small ideas
No fucking clue what you're still doing here
Must be cosy with such claustrophobic taste
Shout it loud, I hate this place
Must be lovely when they all turn to leave
Light a match, I'll burn it to the ground
Are you afraid? Are you afraid?
Are you afraid? Are you afraid?
I'll keep at
Your throat
Until you
Let go of mine
Nihilism's
No excuse
I hate that I even think about you
Must be peaceful to be filled with so much hate
Shout it loud, I hate this place
Must be inspiring to elicit such disgust
With your tongue stuck to his boot
There's a time and a place
To wipe the smile off their face