Swine Slaughter

All of our big feelings
All of your willpower
In the back of your hands
The bottom of the cards
There are red ink pens everywhere
And all the markers
When we absolutely need your help
You never will
They are completely useless
So we might as well be
Slave, slaughter
So we might as well be
Slave, slaughter
A servant to the major
Why aren't they with me?
A servant to the major
Why aren't they with me?
They are completely useless
So we might as well be
You will all
You will all