Cold And Dead

My body's cold and dead the day you have a say
the day this changes.
Hanging from the rafters, swinging by my neck
is when you'll get a chance…

You fucking suit
With your fucking tie
I hate your lies…

Brain-dead and lobotomized the day I let you robots
change this.
Bedridden and comatose, my heart maintained
by some fucking machine,

My senses numb
Is what you'll need
To sate your greed…

Take the broken glass and jam it in my heart
(I'd slit you fucking throat)
Like the rat bastard you really are
(you piece of shit)

Do your sons and daughters cry?
Can you look them in the eye?

Turn it up, Embrace the sound!
Don't just go through the motions!
Don't let me down!
With the muse sincere, and the passion and the sweat,
(When the music's sincere, and there's passion and there's sweat)
You look in the mirror and I'm sure there is regret about
the calling you've so betrayed for money made.
(that fucking monster is you)