Every day you go out and bloody up your hands
It's the same old, same old, tired song and dance
Every day you go out and bloody up your hands
But the crowds of chanters will be undamned
I'm sorry for the loss you've never felt
I'm sorrier for all the death you've dealt
I'm sorry for the many things you bought
Made by people who had their hearts caught
Every day more bloodflow flows into the sky
And then you act as if you do not know why
Every day more bloodflow flows into the sky
Every moment you live inside your lie
I'm sorry for the grief that isn't yours
I'm sorrier for how you keep fake score
I'm sorry for the pretty things you've got
Made by people who had their hearts caught
Do you want to see the way death seeps
Into the lives for which you'll never weep
Do you want to see the way death seeps
What you sow is what you're going to reap
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