i cry at the start of every movie i guess ‘cause i wish i was making things too but i’m working for the knife i used to think i would tell stories but nobody cared for the stories i had about no good guys i always knew the world moves on i just didn’t know it would go without me i start the day high and it ends so low ‘cause i’m working for the knife i used to think i’d be done by 20 now at 29 the road appears the same though maybe at 30 i’ll see a way to change that i’m living for the knife i always thought the choice was mine and i was right but i just chose wrong i start the day lying and end with the truth that i’m dying for the knife
