Finger fall off, wagging empty

The chorus
screams for blood
every single day
emptying out their hollow vessels
in shallow tears
shallow emotions

Genuine hardship
genuine regret
purchased for someone else
prostituting themselves
out for causes that disappear in just a few days

Like a child crying
the chorus knows there is a problem
even if they can't articulate it
so they scream
and turn red
and try desperately to be heard

Finger wagging
falling off
empty anger
this is the legacy of the chorus

Who enjoys tragedy
because it feels so good to be right

There is blood on all of our hands
but the fingers still point
while plasma beads and flows to the tip
of our finger nails

We just buried a body
time to bury another one

Don't think about it
don't ever think about it
lest you be buried too

Don't think anymore
it isn't worth it