Animal Crossing, Bitter Admin

This is the sound of growing old and giving in
Let the trumpets beckon these cracked backs
Scratch the itches of our long-termed youth
My glass fingers be damned
I'm too far gone for a line in the sand

I'm not bitter to a fault, just existing in disaster
The world's turned into a fucking cult, addicted to easy answers
If this is how I turn to a count, a distinct lack of rest
Then declare me counted out, there's nothing in this chest

I can still spit out this ripe venom
It just hurts to get up in the morning
And when I weigh down the Earth
On my Sunday drive to oblivion
Kicking against the pricks with my last good leg

I'm not bitter to a fault, just existing in disaster
The world's turned into a fucking cult, addicted to easy answers
If this is how I turn to a count, a distinct lack of rest
Then declare me counted out, there's nothing in this chest

I'll grip and grip until my joints desist
A gentle roar crept through the lips
I've never seen such hubris
From a virus with shoes
They're in our halls, they're in our blood
The world's a gallows I just woke to
Our youth are child soldiers in the culture wars
We've lost our hearts to
They're in our halls, they're in our blood
The world's a gallows I just woke to
And for their sins on our part
We all deserve to swing