Remains Of Radio Friendly
Guilt is a falacy
I feel it all the time
Sharpen my instinct
Splinter my technique
Doses of malice, he
felt it all the time
Christlike in instinct
Devil's own technique
Burn it down again, that's what it took
Burn it down again, that's what it took
It wasn't meant to be
Wasn't meant to be
oooooooh
oooooooh
One more shot and I'll be on my way
Critical infliction
of counter intuition
Shoestring apathy
noose of anarchy
Never seen the ocean
but I've got my suspisions
steroid shoulder boy
army to employ
Burn it down again, that's what it took
Burn it down again, that's what it took
It wasn't meant to be
Wasn't meant to be
oooooooh
oooooooh
One more shot and I'll be on my way
