Death on the Festival Circuit

I mewl and crow to fight my way through the snow
 And scratch the surface just to find a second surface
 I beg the merchants, please
 Serve a purpose other than treason
 There must be another reason to play these songs
 Best known for being bludgeoned into something to own
 The money's been bought up
 And surely woman, you can feel it
 And the music's all washed up
 They'd rather sell it than steal it
 As the festivals run dry, these whorish children can't look you in the eye
 As you turn it out and turn them into something beautiful
 For the party of the century is still looking for a reason to behave
 The money's been bought up
 And surely woman, you can feel it
 And the scene, it's all washed up
 They'd rather sell it than steal it
 As the festivals run dry, sweet whorish children, please look them in the eye
 As they turn you out and turn you into something less than beautiful again