Letra da Música: American By Birth, Cursed By The Grace Of God - Nervous Breakdown

i wouldn't lie if today was gold, but i don't care what the fuck tomorrow holds. everything good just turns to shit, that's the way i've learned to cope. for me...
reality has no fucking hope. love just dies, or fucks your friends. i know how it'll end.
i stay(ed) loyal, my word pristine. today's gold is tomorrows garbage, the future is looking old. it's hard to hold your head up so high when there's nothing up in the sky.