Mission Hill Party

I can't see past your slick veneers. Your empty eyes, your hollow sneers. Why not just kill yourselves instead? You f**king people are already dead. Dancing drunk to the radio. 'Cause feeling something is better than nothing at all. And all the drama queens, all you self-pity machines are dancing drunk to the radio. No one's gonna save you, so just quit trying. No one's gonna save you, so just quit crying.