This family is as good as dead
And you're exactly where we want you
Ignore the blades in your bed
They only cut you where you want to

Your empty laugh
An epitaph
A photograph
A parasite

We sit at tables and don’t speak
In front of meals we never fucking eat
Bloated from swallowing words
And push the leftovers inside the seat

When did I have to start begging
For a single scrap of sentiment?
Let’s automate the embedding
Til it bеcomes an impediment

Whеn did I have to start begging
To return my devotion?
Why would I stab you in the back
When you’ve got so many faces to choose from?

Your empty laugh
An epitaph that’s written on
A photograph
A parasite born backwards on
The second Sunday
And then refused to die again
Maybe one day
I’ll force you back down the drain
Empty laugh (I’ll force you back down the drain)
An epitaph
A photograph (I’ll force you back down the drain)
A parasite

Empty laugh (I’ll force you back down the drain)
An epitaph
A photograph (I’ll force you back down the drain)
A parasite