Next time we walk down to the docks
While [bad word] the morning sun
We'll share rations of bread with
Drifters and deceivers
Know I only see this hour after
Evenings of infamy

There are thousands of you like me
And you'll be so so sorry
When you start to hate the sound of laughter
Grinding your teeth down to powder

How rewarding is it
Just to be alive we could have residence
In the worst prison
That happens when you die and have
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No friends to carry caskets in the saddest procession
Those people often say they're sorry
When your soul departs
But they recover oh so quick

There are thousands of you like me
And you'll be so so sorry
When you start to hate the sound of laughter
Grinding your teeth down to powder

There are thousands of you like me
And you'll be so so sorry
when you start to hate the sound of laughter
Grinding your teeth down to powder