Give up Loss ain't the same as a religion Burning the flame for a reaction Its tempting, and faith can be misleading We're bending the rules of you Greed, as foolish as grief, and they don't give up We're trying, it's late, and they want to kill us Something along the lines of spilled guts They'll sell us for gold and youth There ain't no jury now The context of conscious deceit becomes of interest They're screaming at me... I've got to kill this It's deeper than me, or how I'm feeling It's easy to see its all misleading We're fleeing the scene without the meaning Without the meaning We've got to kill this