Lyrics:

Fuck genius, what's an artist?
Dead words devoid of meaning, let's drop them
I know where they can go, your neck is blocking the hole
Let's start from zero, now listen close

This is the rip, the scream that ignites the world
We're slaves to radios, we're not worth shit to talk to
This is the pen that won't cauterize the wound
Whose plan to follow?

It feels like your own
It's an insult, you've fallen for it
It feels like your own
Your anthem's as jaded as its source

The anemic, the pale, the sullen
An album's evidence, I believed that shit
Here stuck in radios, no one's worth shit to talk to
These were my heroes, now they're all jokes

This is the rip, the scream that ignites the world
We're slaves to radios, we're not worth shit to talk to
This is the pen that won't cauterize the wound
Whose plan to follow?

It feels like your own
It's an insult, you've fallen for it
It feels like your own
Your anthem's as jaded as its source

The ceiling is waiting
The ceiling is waiting

And you follow like it mattered if you did
And it dropped you on your head 'cause you took yourself for granted
Heartless and headstrong
Jump right over those bodies, life's a race, it's an obstacle course

Hide
But you'll never have a choice when you go
They would have noticed you if they had known
But you're fucked

They'll only love when you're gone, or barely hanging on
To all your organs and dignity while you're rotting in hospitals
Don't believe it, it's not your fault
You're just worthless, you're one in a million

Where's God? The ornaments, the holiday songs
Whored out on reading materials in latrines and porta-johns
Don't believe them, you're not worthless
It's us against billions and we can take them all

But we can take them on