i'm gonna burstn'cause every song i write keeps getting worsenmake sure hooks are evenly dispersednthis method functions as a fucking cursenthe formula tells me to end this versennso i grab my pen and betray my secretsnnthe monotony of it all is getting oldnand the chip that's on my shoulder sure has grownnfrom years of playing all the same old songsnwaiting for the next one to unfoldni start to feel like i'm about to blownneveryone keeps saying that i'm slowly losing touchnand it's making me feel crazy but that doesn't matter muchncompared to what we're saving, the band's integritynto hell with all the methods and goodbye sanitynthe warm and sunny weather is quickly moving offnin favor of the winter that is hitting us straight onni've half a mind to follow and never let it dienbut the trademark signs of summer are leaving here tonight