Nobody Takes Pictures of the Drummer

Watched your lips move during that interview
That voice wasn’t yours
Spitting poison that’s not dangerous
Throwing knives that are dull
I read what you said in that interview
Was that you?
Why didn’t it hurt you when you cut yourself?
How come there’s no blood coming from those wounds?
Just not that cool
You’re no hero
What if you meant it?
We meant it when we sang along
What the fuck did you think I was pointing my finger at?
My see-through-hero
You can’t block the bullets I’m going to shoot at you