I'm filled with the anticipation of something that I know
You call me a useless motherf**er while I'm working my fingers to the bone
I know that everybody has used me
I know that everybody has lied
But I take some comfort in knowing the fact that everybody dies
I'm filled with the anticipation of something that I know
You call me a useless motherf**er while I'm working my fingers to the bone
I know that everybody has used me
I know that everybody has lied
But I take some comfort in knowing
All you motherf**ers will die
And I don't have the answers, because it's all bullsh**
In fact I don't know the questions, because they are all bullsh**
It's all bullsh**