Lame lyrics

Whine, whine, whine. How can you afford to throw me those looks when you
haven`t pulled the bloody wool from over your eyes yet? How can you say
those things to me when you haven`t pulled the boot of the past out of your
mouth? Tepid morals personality set for easy calibration knowledge of
importance paramount. Marooned a suicidal caste deal with isolation grease
the wheels chameleon. Sliding through social strata and yet you still whine.
Your conviction is merely iconographic. I`m so sick of hearing you whine
shut up.