I Used To Cut Myself To Dashboard Confessionals

I Used To Cut Myself To Dashboard Confessionals

Fissure

Sad to say that I’ve lost all faith
In all decree

The lure was casted out
No money?
Promises
No worries
Promises
The just hand of the law rules for the righteous
Strikes the wicked down
They say that justice is blind folded

No money?
Pain?
Live with it

Better off dead

Better off the blood stain on the streets
Better off dead
Justice spelled out in dollar signs

Here’s two middle fingers
Go fuck yourselves

I Used To Cut Myself To Dashboard Confessionals

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