Man of Virtue
Dying to live, trying to fit narrow
Dying to live the definition
Dying to live, trying to fit narrow
Dying to live the definition
No, I won't be conned
I won't be ensnared
I won't be conned
I won't be ensnared
To tell you the truth, you make me sick
To tell you the truth you still have nothing
You are violent, but I feel nothing
Your entitlement
I owe you nothing
I watch you deflate and I see nothing
You're not my savior this time, no
No point in trying to fix
No point in trying to fix this narrow snare
Narrow snare
You're still slack-jawed, listless, and soft
Man of virtue
I will hurt you
And my heart is too cold
And I lack a gentle touch
And I do not exist as a constant to your crutch
I disregard your moral failings
If you couldn't get it up
My heart is too cold
And I lack the sympathy
It's too small
It would split if I would give you what you need
The constant to your crutch, if you can't get it up
You're failing
You can't control the clutch
Can't control the clutch
I lack a tender heart
Can you function with no backbone?
I have no consolation
I'm running out of patience
Can't control the clutch
So soft and slack-jawed
My conscience is crystal clear
My conscience is crystal clear
My conscience is fucking crystal clear
My conscience is fucking crystal
Dying to live the definition
Dying to live, trying to fit narrow
Dying to live the definition
No, I won't be conned
I won't be ensnared
I won't be conned
I won't be ensnared
To tell you the truth, you make me sick
To tell you the truth you still have nothing
You are violent, but I feel nothing
Your entitlement
I owe you nothing
I watch you deflate and I see nothing
You're not my savior this time, no
No point in trying to fix
No point in trying to fix this narrow snare
Narrow snare
You're still slack-jawed, listless, and soft
Man of virtue
I will hurt you
And my heart is too cold
And I lack a gentle touch
And I do not exist as a constant to your crutch
I disregard your moral failings
If you couldn't get it up
My heart is too cold
And I lack the sympathy
It's too small
It would split if I would give you what you need
The constant to your crutch, if you can't get it up
You're failing
You can't control the clutch
Can't control the clutch
I lack a tender heart
Can you function with no backbone?
I have no consolation
I'm running out of patience
Can't control the clutch
So soft and slack-jawed
My conscience is crystal clear
My conscience is crystal clear
My conscience is fucking crystal clear
My conscience is fucking crystal
Credits
Writer(s): Courtney Laplante, Mike Stringer, Steven Bradley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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