You never cried, you never froze
And yet how well your garden grows
You reap the fruits another sows
I guess that works out well for you

Suffering has served you well
It's common, yet it somehow sells
So sing your little songs of hell and sell

Hollow hopes and empty dreams
And blind pursuit of worthless schemes
That's all there is to life, it seems
Unless you prove me wrong
Please do

Please do
Please do
Please do