There ain't no rest for the wicked

The mind reeks of disease

Everyone wants to name the thing

as if it's some human being

If it were to be birthed,

would the curse be blamed?

Or would you wish to abort it,

before it can come out half-baked,

a disease that continues to take?

No...

We must eat our mistakes

If I could chain it to my chest,

I’d keep it close each day.

Yeah, I would chow this whole town

and keep their ghosts at bay

What remains will feed an endless pit

’Cause only greed could ever

hold such power inside it's fist

And from the creature that I created,

I will still profit; Even though this world,

oh, it has gone, gone straight to shit

I hold all of my faults close,

since they're my friends at best

The things I say drift off, unheard,

Folks don’t care if you're grieving

So I tear off a little heart,

Bite down on my own sleeve

Just to keep myself from bleeding.

I say I'm "fine", but it's just a lie

Selling myself by the pound.

No one asks if what I say is true,

Long as they can laugh when you're down

They’ll praise the killer, damn the martyr,

Call every bruise “the art we make.”

The spotlight never heals, no,

they only soon reveal...

How we swallow our mistakes.

And, the appetite... that we’ve earned,

For every bridge... that we’ve burned,

Swallow the guilt, pretend we’ve learned

That fame doesn't love a monster's grin

And that your story has no competition

So, we must pretend that we're cruel

That we're not the ones failing

That this world loves when you're faking!

So cue the band and strike again

We dine on the choices we have to make

Because in this town,

oh, In, this, town...

We all eat our mistakes.