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I feel so dumb So void of conviction Afraid of my symptoms I locked myself out There's nothing in this empty house To save me from my lingering doubts Your image in the very space I inherit now Well I tell myself everything is going to be fine Yeah Right Yeah Right Yeah Right Woah Woah Woah We are the product of a broken class But, we weren't raised to be fucking morons I am the product of my father's burden It wasn't promised to me It wasn't promised to me So if you want to come and smoke on Friday I'll make a promise to maintain my distance Letras de cancionesI never wanted to retreat so quietly Let's smoke a cigarette We are the product of a broken class But, we weren't raised to be fucking morons (Thanks to Gloria for these lyrics) From Letras Mania