Old habits Die hard For posh boys Teaching guitar Big mouth Small ideas No fucking clue what you're still doing here Must be cosy with such claustrophobic taste Shout it loud, I hate this place Must be lovely when they all turn to leave Light a match, I'll burn it to the ground Are you afraid? Are you afraid? Are you afraid? Are you afraid? I'll keep at Your throat Until you Let go of mine Nihilism's No excuse I hate that I even think about you Must be peaceful to be filled with so much hate Shout it loud, I hate this place Must be inspiring to elicit such disgust With your tongue stuck to his boot There's a time and a place To wipe the smile off their face