Who's gonna drink till theres nothing left?
Smoke until we turn ourselves to ash?
Fuck like we've run from your hands so long
That wings might rip right through your back
Of all my good friends
Too many were acquaintances
Co-Workers, enemies, secretaries and police
It takes a mouth about as wide, as the bags under my eyes
With all the nightmares, I'm too scared to wake
Is this what we work for?