Does Your Face Hurt? No? 'Cause It's Killing Me!!! - Bomb The Music Industry!

Take a look at your haircut, you’re killing me

Take a look at your glasses, you’re killing me

Placement of the piercings, you’re killing me

Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight

Take a look at your ripped jeans, you’re killing me

Take a look at your Converse, you’re killing me

Get a shirt that fits you, you’re killing me

Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight

Someone the other day was telling me about marketing

And how it’s so important for a band to sell a t-shirt

I told him that the money goes right back into the same thing

And now we’re just a breeding ground for more and more consumers

Sellout, shmellout, it’s not about that

But all my problems seem to stem from cash

I got my beliefs and I don’t care if they’re right

But if we don’t meet our quota, man, we’re gonna get into another fight

Soon we’ll be in the clear when we get out of here

Where style is function and our egos make us fight

For now we’ll live in fear, we’re not sexy enough for this atmosphere

Someone blow it up tonight, we’ll fight, fight, fight, fight

Take a look at your haircut, you’re killing me

Take a look at your glasses, you’re killing me

Placement of the piercings, are you kidding me?

Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight

Williamsburg has got the lights down low

And a moron with a laptop is calling this poetry

A singer with a thrift amp — «vintage circuitry»

On the cover of Bop or Seventeen

I’m so lonely, life is empty

Where’s my coke and fucking money?

Tonight at the bar I got a good look at the enemy

He said «My job’s looking good and someone else can write the songs for me»

Soon we’ll be in the clear when we get out of here

Where style is function and our egos make us fight

For now we’ll live in fear, we’re not sexy enough for this atmosphere

Someone blow it up tonight, please blow it up tonight

Now we’re cloning sheep

Writing garbage in their diaries

Reading their AP

And watching Fuse TV

Kill it, c’est la vie

Fashion show equals your scene

Bomb the industry, yeah

Then run away or watch the blast

I’m getting out so kiss my ass

I’m going nowhere, nowhere fast

I’m going nowhere, nowhere fast