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I'm not here to entertain you
I'm here to meet my friend the Russian
The Irish, the German, the Columbian

I don't care how bad I fuck up
I care about how fucked up I get
I'm not your clown
I'm your dealer

And I'm holding three bindles of bullshit
And you're buyin' them 'cause you are addicted
To the pure and totally uncut

I'm not here to amuse you
I'm here to abuse my body
I'm here because old habits die hard

And seriously, what else am I supposed to do?
This isn't my job, my hobby, my habit
It's sad, but this is my life

Welcome to our mission statement
Total self-debasement
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com
And not giving our all

Watch us Fall!

It's not that we don't pull it
It's just that we only give about 60 or so percent

Would you rather be fed bullshit
From some 20-something, makeup wearing, popstar

"This one goes out to all our fans all over the world
Without you, we'd just be us.
So, I just wanna say thank you!
We fuckin' love you, Modesto!"

Fuck you!

And you're takin' it easy before the show
So you won't lose your voice
And disappoint your fans routine

And you don't care about the children
You don't even know them
All you know is their money