Death On The Festival Circuit

I mewl and crow to fight my way through the snow

And scratch the surface just to find a second surface

I beg the merchants, please

Serve a purpose other than treason

There must be another reason to play these songs

Best known for being bludgeoned into something to own

The money's been bought up

And surely woman, you can feel it

And the music's all washed up

They'd rather sell it than steal it

As the festivals run dry, these whorish children can't look you in the eye

As you turn it out and turn them into something beautiful

For the party of the century is still looking for a reason to behave

The money's been bought up

And surely woman, you can feel it

And the scene, it's all washed up

They'd rather sell it than steal it

As the festivals run dry, sweet whorish children, please look them in the eye

As they turn you out and turn you into something less than beautiful again