The Art Of Patrons

The Art Of Patrons - ****ed Up

Eurycles I am broken

The disciple smiles in disgust

The satyrs have awoken

And things aren't here to be discussed

We traded the privilege for scraps

Exchanged for the clothes on our backs

Lived life like there was no other way

What was sacrosanct

Now the sacred is profane

We yearn for the thanks

But we deserve all the blame

A simple piece of stagecraft

A tawdry parlor trick

We traded our moral high ground so they would sing along

But is it so bad

Is it as dark as it seems

To trade a little purity to prolong the dream

One by one we will find a way

To let each and every one down

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

Sit back and have a seat

Dazzled by the greed

It's his voice through my lips

It's the miracle of gastromancy

They are spinning in their graves

At the choices we have made

But in our shoes would they have stayed so chaste

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion

It's the privilege

Of mass delusion