Where will you be when the pity party comes crashing down on me Bogged down by discretion and taste Ensnared in consciousness, what a waste Hell bent on getting bent out of shape Bored into a stiff, sulking in fits Nobody's had a drink but you've already k**ed the buzz Now that we know that you're a joke We can laugh at what you lack In d**h and decay we all look the same So save your pretense for the grave Good days breed bittersweet memories The gutter hasn't reached its quota yet Hard set on hard times yet to come You can't blame your failure on anyone You're young and you're wild but you're not free Pressed into pretense trapped in trivialities Mince words until you've had your fill Of deafening discretion laced with condescension Pull the trigger so the night lives on The taste of discernment washed down By illusions of ecstasy and backhanded empathy Testing the tolerance of a fools sympathy You seem to forget a man's home is his casket So get in line for a chance at some wasted time Neck deep in deeds done cheap But you don't have to sow what you reap You only lie to yourself When you pride yourself On the life that you've undone And the mess that you've become