There's bones to pick, complete contempt

Fenced off to tight-knitted friends

Ideas as old as your dreams

All talk with no blood to bleed

Exhausted, grinding resent

What's worse than constant neglect?

You say that you hate the scene

But you still take what you need

Disown your friends like they're dead

Thinking that you'll get ahead

But you'll end up with nothing

Sold out without selling a thing

I know I'll never forget

Maybe you'll always regret

Withered and old with nothing

I brought love, what did you bring?