Texty: Brand New Sin. Recipe For Disaster. Days Are Numbered.

Bad enough I got time killing me
It keeps dragging on
But now it seems you?re a burden to me
The way you?re hanging on
Who the fucks gonna hold your hand
Every time you cry
Your life just seems so easy to me
It makes me wonder why

It?s only now I see
You weren?t built to last

When your days are numbered
And you?re fooling yourself fooling yourself
And the truth?s uncovered
Don?t blame nobody else nobody else

You think you serve some kind of purpose
When you throw your weight around
We played your game for a long long time
But now we?re pulling out
I think you know and you understand
I think you realize
But now I know that the truth could never make it
Past your fucking pride