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Şarkı Sözleri I chase my toil Hammering a nail against the grain of fact I keep on bouncing back Misinformation is passed Look left to the right, always fight or fight I painfully dissect, will never take as read Yet fall back to earth as the wretch Which suits them fucking fine Mister pessimism, a trait we'd all rather give up Mister pessimism, after this it comes so natural Reserving judgment wounds me time after time Exploitation becomes a daily grind Take a saccharine shot, not to humor the fuckers But the scheming scum have all bases covered Which suits you fucking fine From a catalog of lies, there is scant protection So you see dependability is farce and fiction Which suits you fucking fine