Picking through bones that way,
Throw the loser's heart on the ground.
Rules forgotten, throw away.
Throw the loser's heart on the ground.
Rules forgotten, throw away.
You don't have to feel that way,
You don't have to feel that way,
You don't have to twist the knife.
You don't have to twist the knife,
You don't have to twist the knife.
Fresh made fields,
Fresh time on the clock better still.
And a clean cloth to wipe it away.
You don't have to feel that way,
You don't have to feel that way,
You don't have to twist the knife.
You don't have to twist the knife,
You don't have to twist the knife.
Heads buried in the sand,
In a foolish waiting game.
Sputters and shakes waiting for a shine.
You don't have to feel that way,
You don't have to feel that way,
You don't have to twist the knife.
You don't have to twist the knife,
You don't have to twist the knife.
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