sitting on a golden throne with a silver spoon and empty syringe
wake up at the end of the day play the shiny trumpet with a sorrowful tune
he's the centre of his universe takes perverse pleasure in pain
the love of arseholes and the payday binge I'm getting out of here
suffering is food to him friends of despair keep on travelling down
you deserve a treat because the worlds fucked up
small bags of joy and cheap red wine
living with the slow motion wreck
first world intellect with the world at your feet
those books on those shelves with those definitions of hell
nurture self-suffering it's too messed up
coming down with more misery
chain smoking joviality
the medicine has become a disease
the bulletproof straitjacket starts to rot
I'm sick of people adding more shit to the world
we could never talk you felt too persecuted
raise your voice just to abuse me
small town legend small town problem