There's bones to pick, complete contempt Fenced off to tight-knitted friends Ideas as old as your dreams All talk with no blood to bleed Exhausted, grinding resent What's worse than constant neglect? You say that you hate the scene But you still take what you need Disown your friends like they're dead Thinking that you'll get ahead But you'll end up with nothing Sold out without selling a thing I know I'll never forget Maybe you'll always regret Withered and old with nothing I brought love, what did you bring?