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Here in line where stupid **** collides

With dying shooting stars

All we got to show what we really are

Is the same kind of scars

And looking at you, all I see is

You're waiting for something

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You're a murder mile

You idiot kid

Your arm's got a death in it

If you're choking up, take this paper cup,

But there's a price you'll pay

For trying hard to become whatever they are,

And saying whatever they say

So help yourself to this bitter pill

Or somebody else will

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You're a murder mile

You idiot kid

Your arm's got a death in it

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