A Million Middle Fingers

Sometimes it comes through

In the smallest complications

You need to get there soon

But you're lost outside of Boston

There's no need for proof

These are bad directions

Don't you know that people

Don't mind when you lose

You were yelling like you knew

And pointing out the exits

The devil had told you

to break up the connection

It all starts coming true

These are bad directions

Don't you know that people

like it when you lose