Rich Kids

(альбом: Abysmal Thoughts - 2017)

Rich kids, you make me sick, kids
A bunch of dickheads
Rich kids, you don't give two shits
You make me slit wrists

I found a boy with a rusty car
He smokes a regional cigarette
Factory working, factory looking
Factory kissing, factory doing
Lost my keys in a parking lot
Stumbled on the boy with a bad haircut
Factory working, factory looking
Factory kissing, factory doing

Rich kids, you make me sick, kids
A bunch of dickheads
Rich kids, you don't give two shits
You make me slit wrists

Catch him in the truck tied under each arm
The same arms that hugging me through the night
Factory working, factory looking
Factory kissing, factory doing
I like to drink orange juice then give him the glass
He happily washes it then kicks my ass
Factory working, factory looking
Factory kissing, factory doing

When I see him smile every once in a while
Every once in a while
His father will never know him
And his mother thinks she loves him
The rich kids say he's nothing
But they've got nothing on him
They've got nothing on him
But they've got nothing on him

Rich kids, you make me sick, kids
A bunch of dickheads
Rich kids, you don't give two shits
You make me slit wrists