Washed Up

You became the ones you swore you'd hate

Nothing grounding ever seems to translate

Still thinking that you're heaven sent

And do whatever it costs to stay relevant

Beg, plead, make your animal sounds

But no one cares they never come around

Think you're still the judge of treasure and trash

Better play your last hand, better do it fast

Keep the decay going worse than you'll know

Beg, borrow, steal for where you want to go