[Verse 1] Stale dregs in the corner, pawn shop smiles at the table. Exhaling sulfur myths, and canonizing their own stable. If wine is too cheap, pork rinds aren't far away. They bark like emperors with nothing in the tray. [Pre-Chorus] But I scan the architecture, I hear the desperate spin. One palm on the gospel, the other drowning in gin. (Drowning in gin) (Drowning in... ...) Gin... [Chorus] Where it says wine, there's a fraud inside. Where it says wine, there's a fraud inside. You can call it the gospel when the finish shines, but I spot the swindle in the tremor of the lines. [Verse 2] They toast to the high life with cracked porcelain faces. Borrowed from a wet street, running out of empty spaces. Artificial flavoring, synthetic flavoring... a synthetic personality parading as the sermon. [Pre-Chorus] And I scan the architecture, I hear the desperate spin. One palm on the gospel, the other drowning in gin. [Chorus] Where it says wine, there's a fraud inside. Where it says wine, there's a fraud inside. You can call it the gospel when the finish shines, but I spot the swindle in the tremor of the lines. [Bridge] Intellect for the masses, sold by the half-pint. The gospel of the gutter with a desperate little glint. The cork doesn't save you, and the bluster never pays. What's left in the dregs is the wreckage of their masquerade. (Masquerade) [Chorus] Where it says wine, there's a fraud inside. Where it says wine, there's a fraud inside. You can call it the gospel when the finish shines, but I spot the swindle in the tremor of the lines. [Outro] Stale dregs in the corner, pawn shop smiles at the table. The truth stays jagged when the fable turns to gravel. (Stays jagged) (Turns to gravel)
