It's the end of instinct for the marginalized since this the farthest we'll go with our lives we are the wreckage spilling our art we are the s**ers with the shattered hearts condemned I say born this way determined to die picked up a bloodtrail from miles away where voices collide like the crashing of trains sell the scrap and ignore the remains I sell the scrap and ignore the remains cautiously caustically all history as an end to means we never win so bolt the door block out the light raise a gla** we die tonight in celebration of our flesh and bone we'll live in the margins and die alone as we waltz through the rubble of these bombed-out shells and dance to the music of the go-nowheres