Theory Of The Crows Where crybabies cry in the United States Bright white on both sides like a plate Nobody listens, nobody should It'd be a waste of attention
Not enough money to buy a PC So I come in this weekend, asleep on my feet And if I forget you, I'll have nobody left to forget I guess that's what assholes get
Traded my day light for a career
But I need you to disprove My theory of the crows
Pouring my fingers across the keys Will someone review my salary please I'm selling my time to the man who sells style That time should be mine to waste on you
I'll suck off investors I'll suck off VCs
I'm losing my posture from time on my knees They treat me so well 'Cause I'll do anything It's in my nature of service
But I'll need you to disprove My theory of the crows
Kids of the wealthy are raised by the poor You send daughters to Los Angeles and New York I need mine to see me when I wake up I need mine to know that I'm what they come to When they come home