On The Might Of Princes - Go f** Yrself lyrics

Who's gonna drink till theres nothing left? Smoke until we turn ourselves to ash? f** like we've run from your hands so long. That wings might rip right through your back. Of all my good friends, Too many were acquaintances. Co-Workers, enemies, secretaries and police. It takes a mouth about as wide, as the bags under my eyes. With all the nightmares, im too scared to wake. Is this what we work for?