Cutting Room Floor

If hell broke out in the White House, how long would it take for word to carry
here?
Would it stay hush hush till the weather changed, till the sun warmed the snow
and fears?
Well I would wanna know. I would wanna know, and it’s strange to me that you
could barely care.
You say, like this stolen ground no one’s golden now. We’re all made of bronze
and steel.
Well why don’t you leave, just leave. You make a horrible point,
with your eyes looking low.
So leave, just leave. You’re on the cutting board, the cutting board of the
cutting room floor.
You’re gonna wake to a whole different scene.
All your pretty lights and neon signs replaced with green.
And as you curse the river bed that you throw your compass in,
there’s comfort 'round the bend.
But this house is filled with crooks and liars.
We regret to inform you there’s no love here for you.
(I know you’re coming with the worst intentions. Bring the flood)
So take your hooks and pliers.
We regret to inform you, you’re the lowest form.
So leave, just leave. You make a horrible point with your eyes looking low.
So leave, just leave. You’re on the cutting board, the cutting board of the
cutting room floor.
You’ve got this crazy notion.
You’ve ripped this out by the seems.
You can’t even fathom how with every word you try to say,
You dig yourself a hole you can’t escape.
And that’s a little bit more than what you came here for.
Isn’t it funny how little respect
You get when you burn the world for a paycheck?
Leave, just leave. You make a horrible point with your eyes looking low.
So leave, just leave. You’re on the cutting board, the cutting board of the
cutting room floor.