Burning Down the Nicotine Armoire, Pt. 2

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Jon Mess] Still grinding teeth, trying to follow you home I'll stop the world 'cause this plan is slow Wait across the street in the parking lot The tree is dead, the front door is locked The moments I framed have cracked and crumbled Grabbed us by the throat, then I choked and stumbled This will never work, this will never work Check my pulse as I swallow dirt [Verse 2: Kurt Travis] I'm cutting myself with my own morals I never meant to write about you (I never meant to write about you) The one contact that I loved so much But passing my own heart, what could possibly be within? [Chorus: Kurt Travis & Jon Mess] Do you think about your actions? Do you ever wonder what the consequences are? Your licensed M. Bison got stabbed with a five-dollar syringe Oh, the dullness of existence Your licensed M. Bison got stabbed with a five-dollar syringe Oh, the dullness of existence I'm dressed in white, shine so bright, hair so tight [Verse 3: Kurt Travis] And I have no sympathy for this He needs somebody else to leech off of (Somebody else to leech off of) The one contact that I loved so much But passing my own heart, what could possibly be within? [Chorus: Kurt Travis & Jon Mess] Do you think about your actions? Do you ever wonder what the consequences are? Your licensed M. Bison got stabbed with a five-dollar syringe Oh, the dullness of existence Your licensed M. Bison got stabbed with a five-dollar syringe Oh, the dullness of existence [Breakdown: Jon Mess] Prescribed the throat, I need the antidote, it's fucking mind over matter Prescribed the throat, I need the antidote, it's fucking mind over matter Prescribed the throat, I need the antidote, it's fucking mind over matter Prescribed the throat, I need the antidote, it's fucking mind over matter [Bridge: Kurt Travis] My concepts are rested and manifest in ways you can't forget My concepts are rested and manifest in ways you can't forget My concepts are rested [Outro: Jon Mess & Kurt Travis] If you're gonna wear the uniform, you better sell the cookies (My concepts are rested) Don't come to my house asking for a handout If you're gonna wear the uniform, sell the fucking cookies (My concepts are rested) Don't come to my house