My friends kill my folks in front of menMy friends kill my folks and I'm not even sorrynThey say the line is thick between cryin' and cryin'nThey say the line is thick between dyin' and dyin'nnI hardly ever listen and I don't steer, but I do hear, and I often peer at the features of mannThrough my glasses, through my pictures, and through their facesnIt's the only thing that keeps me awakenThrough some nights and all kinds of morningsnWhen you hate yourself, it's the mirror you breaknYou won't find ears that fit your earringsnnMy friends kill my folks in front of menMy friends kill my folks and I'm not even sorrynThey say the line is thick between cryin' and cryin'nThey say the line is thick between dyin' and dyin'nnI once was used to killing and double talkingnI wasn't right and then not even smokin'nSo I know how it feels to hate your own guts, and rest your sick ego on if's and but'snand I don't see a light and I don't give a damnnI see your surface and I feel its thickness and what I see from where I amnIt's so obvious not seeing it is a sicknessnnMy friends kill my folks in front of menMy friends kill my folks and I'm not even sorrynThey say the line is thick between cryin' and cryin'nThey say the line is thick between dyin' and dyin'n