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So its seems We've arrived in a place in time Where the words you write Don't mean a goddamn thing It's embarrassing is all When the most pedestrian of things to say Are held in high regard A car crash is not an art Someday you'll see These arts and crafts type politicians With their barrel up to the temple parading this Hindsight's one motherfucker How could you pour your heart and soul into this mess If they start throwing horns I'm cutting off their fingers I'm seeing stars and picking bullshit out of dialogue I'm poking holes in stories that inflate what people really are Stop strangling me because your world will burn, you'll see Flip the pages til your fucking fingers bleed These arts and crafts type politicians With their barrel up to the temple parading this Hindsight's one motherfucker How could you pour your heart and soul into this mess I suggest a new bohemia can burn in hell and all those clinging to it Next up are the starches collars and watch those fucking flames spread Not predicated, I am medicated to see this through And right through you SongtexteYour predictable vocabulary and your point of view Will never meet my better side, I'll never welcome you If they'll hold on at all (Thanks to tekah for these lyrics) Aus Songtexte Mania