Venom spit from your thought pattern
A cell structure devoid of refrain
Walk down that road you cling to dearly
You’re claiming worship among wayward brains

Rich in ideas, you present them
Wear it like a golden crown
Recite the speech among the sheep
And claim them all as your own

When there’s nothing left
At the end of the day
Weigh in your lament
You know what you did
And no one remembers
Anything you say

And it’s always the last to the table
Searchin’ for the final crumb
Slowly, all regain their senses
And wait for the next to come

And it’s always the last to the table
Searchin’ for the final crumb
Slowly, all regain their senses
And wait for the next to come

When there’s nothing left
At the end of the day
Weigh in your lament
You know what you did
And no one remembers
Anything you say