I did my time and I want out, so abusive
Fate, it doesn't cut, the soul is not so vibrant
The reckoning, the sickening
Back at you, subversion, pseudo-sacred, pyscho virgin
Go tell your classes, go dig you graves
Then fill your mouth with all the money you will save
Sinking in, getting smaller again
Undone, it has begun, I'm not the only one
And the rain will kill us all
Throw ourselves against the wall
But no one else can see
The preservation of the martyr in me
Psychosocial, psychosocial, psychosocial
Psychosocial, psychosocial, psychosocial
Oh, there are cracks in the road we lay
From when the devil fell, the secrets have gone mad
This is nothing new but would we kill it all
Fate was all we had
Who needs another mess, we could start over
Just look me in the eyes and say I'm wrong
Now there's only emptiness but I'm missing something
I think we're done, I'm not the only one
And the rain will kill us all
Throw ourselves against the wall
But no one else can see
The preservation of the martyr in me
Psychosocial, psychosocial, psychosocial
Psychosocial, psychosocial, psychosocial
The limits of the dead!
The limits of the dead!
The limits of the dead!
The limits of the dead!
Fake and defenseless lie
(Psychosocial)
I tried to tell you first
(Psychosocial)
Your hurtful lies are giving out
(Psychosocial)
Can't stop the killing
(Psychosocial)
I can't help if it's hunting season
(Psychosocial)
Is this what you want?
(Psychosocial)
I'm not the only one
And the rain will kill us all
Throw ourselves against the wall
But no one else can see
The preservation of the martyr in me
And the rain will kill us all
If we throw ourselves against the wall
But no one else can see
The preservation of the martyr in me
The limits of the dead!
The limits of the dead!
Fake and defenseless lie
(Psychosocial)
I tried to tell you first
(Psychosocial)
Your hurtful lies are giving out
(Psychosocial)
Can't stop the killing
(Psychosocial)
I can't help if it's hunting season
(Psychosocial)
Is this what you want?
(Psychosocial)
I'm not the only one
And the rain will kill us all
Throw ourselves against the wall
But no one else can see
The preservation of the martyr in me
And the rain will kill us all
Throw ourselves against the wall
But no one else can see
The preservation of the martyr in me
The limits of the dead!
The limits of the dead!
I think Corey just took one of English's coolest-sounding words, Psychosocial, and wrote a bunch of random lyrics ro go with it. It totally worx!