You're stabbing the backs   of the ones that are holding you up   And maybe it doesn't matter   but it just seems so clear to me   that they don't care that it hurts to breathe   They don't know and they can't see   that the songs you own make your heart beat   The breakdown, the stitches, broken lives   and no one knows what we're going through   There is a difference between   what you've earned and what you deserve   And as long as you are living well   Our sweat can drip straight to Hell      Prove me wrong   Prove you give a fuck   About the sound, about the words   Prove that we've crossed your mind   on some term besides numbers   There's no loyalty   There's no fucking ethics here      It's not the message that keeps you here