The Bad Apples


You've got nothing to live for you're a plague
A filthy fucking drain on the world
And everything it holds
So I stopped talking to myself it's getting old
I'm getting old like this song
So fall in line or fall apart and die

Just go give up hope,
Sink your boat along with you
So what are you gonna do?

Oh is it me or is your status sold at the mall
Or in your favorite store
Where adolescent hypocrites would go to get clothed
And then get laid, as they creep their way
Into some girl that would feel vain if she said:

Go give up hope and sink your boat along with you
So what are you gonna do when you lose control?
You'll get it
When you lose it all
You'll get it, get it







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