Bottom Feeder Lyrics - Singles - Cave-in
Long walks with my temper
Take me down a dead end street
In contemplation;
Where do we start at the end?
Before I could collect myself,
I'm vacuumed in by a figure's armspread
With fiery gasps of iron-air,
Cornered in my circle of friends.
Won't he speak to you?
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Emptied on the floor
Were the shells of my defenses,
Placing in his own
Bullets of condescendence.
Those people shafted me
Of my social weaponry.
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