And still you stay here
stained and paid for, wasting all your precious words on
endless wars
Yeah, we fight to kill and we
kill to see 'em die and we pick
all of our own battles
we tell all of our own lies, and did we
Ever stop to think, no
no-one ever stops to think that maybe
Maybe we're just wasting time
But that's the story, that's the
loud and desperate cry
We're writing letters to a genie
and the genie don't write back
to tell us,
DO IT ON YOUR OWN!
you lazy pigs, you worship me like you are nothing
but a picture of my
bones up on the wall
so we just keep on writing letters
and we keep on keeping faith in all the wrong things
all the wrong ways
Still you stay here
half-baked and played for all you got and you
pretend like you're still pure
Pretend you're all still worth the fight
when all the children have gone home
to worms and dust and cold
And you still want to pretend
with angels for fake friends
Like you're happy still
Like you're something still
but if that genie could write back, he'd tell you
to stop
wasting
time