Theory of the Crows

Where crybabies cry in the United States

Bright white on both sides like a plate

Nobody listens, and nobody should

That'd be a waste of attention

Not enough money to buy a PC

So I'll come in this weekend, asleep on my feet

And if I forget you, I'll have nobody left to forget

I guess that's what assholes get

Traded my daylight for a career

But I need you to disprove my theory of the crows

Pouring my fingers across the keys

Will someone review my salary, please?

I'm selling my time to the man who sells style

That time should be mine to waste on you

I'll suck off investors, I'll suck off VCs

I'm losin' my posture from time on my knees

They treat me so well 'cause I'll do anything

It's in the nature of service

But I'll need you to disprove my theory of the crows

Kids of the wealthy are raised by the poor

You send daughters to Los Angeles and New York

I need mine to see me when I wake up

I need mine to know that I'm what they come to

That I'm what they come to

That I'm what they come to

That I'm what they come to

When they come home