He was a friend that I could not reach
He thought I was cold but I understand
But for the grace of God goes another man
And I may just waste away from doing nothing
But I'm a martyr to even less
A choir boy is buried on the moors
Where we used to go dreaming when we were bored
Some kids are best left to fend for themselves
And others were born to stack shelves
And I may just waste away from doing nothing
But I'm a martyr to even less
Fuck you and your book too
You can have it back
When I'm gone these songs will
Will be my tracks
And I had a stupid dream that I could change things
But I'm a martyr to even less
I hate the ground that I have walked upon
Nothing I've done has ever mattered long
