The Small of Your Back, the Nape of Your Neck (The Blizzard) The Paper Chase

[Verse 1]
We're the stand-ins, we're the walkthroughs
We're the understudies in the side views
We will come to you then with our hat in our hands
Can we get an amen?
We're bodies dumped in the forest
We're patients at the bottom of the donor list
We know spite never sleeps, so we rinse and repeat
But we never get clean
We will scream out His name in the meadow
Wander the woods like we're Hansel and Gretel

[Chorus]
'Cause God only knows how cold it's getting
And by His design, He must know we're starving
Don't curse, it don't work, you'll be cursed for cursing
Don't hurt, it don't work, you'll be hurt from hurting
'Cause now our credits are rolling, the bells they are tolling
It's getting more colder, it's apropos how
I'm certain it's curtains, it's curtains for you and me

[Verse 2]
We're the sudden, we're the random acts of what I could only call mayhem
We're not willing to change, we're not willing to try
We're the "good enough guys"
When the ship comes in, we're gonna be there waving the bastards in
And when the votes get count, we'll be demanding the recount
And when the checks will clear, we're gonna be the pickpocket swatting at your rear
To the small of your back, the nape of your neck marks appear