Burn Your Atticus Shirts And Start A Real Band

Dead Letter Dept.

Compositor: Não Disponível

I'm going to hell tonight, but i could use a ride, its out by the airport where the planes fall from the sky.
Our kids well destroy the world, if we don't beat them to it, so the race is on you little mother fuckers.
I cant hold my breath, were losing altitude, got our play stations from this new neato attitude.
Where you can have your pride, and choke, choke on it too.
Ill pawn the kids for furniture, while your out selling them running shoes.
Whoa whoa oh oh (you cant scream in silence or you'll die from no patience)