No Rest For the Whiny - Bomb The Music Industry!

We got knocked off the horse and we can’t get back up

We can try to change but we’ve still got our bills

That we gotta pay, and the payments stay the same

No matter where you move, no matter how cheap the rent

Stop screaming for a change, start screaming for a wage

And the irony of plastic is when it starts replacing cash

Soon enough you have no cash and it gets replaced with debt

And all you’re left with is past mistakes and the envelopes change color

All dimly lit pastels, they go white and then to yellow then to pink

It’s like a fucking party to celebrate that you are fucked

Electric flow and dirty clothes and student loans

Oh god, you gotta pay 'em

Electric flow and student loans and dirty clothes

Oh god, you gotta pay 'em, gotta pay 'em, gotta pay 'em, gotta pay 'em, pay 'em

While you can’t get a decent wage, I still can’t find a job

Yeah, my life just repeats the 2005 series

Of rejected applications and me botching interviews

And waiting for phone calls from a temp agency that never calls at all

It’s never easy but it’s always

The electric flow and dirty clothes and student loans

Oh god, you gotta pay 'em

The electric flow and dirty clothes and student loans

Oh god, you gotta pay 'em

The attack, I’m feeling the attack, I’m feeling the attack

Of basic social skills I know I know I know I know I lack

I’m hyper cognizant of facts, I’m well aware that we are barely scraping by

My good intentions aren’t enough to salvage that

Give me one, give me two, give me three four five

Give me more per hour so I can afford to pay for food and gas

And bags to throw away the trash

You gotta throw away the trash

It’s hard to pay the bills when you can’t work a forty hour week

It’s hard to interview when I am too depressed to even speak

It’s hard to have a blast when we spend all our spare time feeling weak

Because we’re thinking about that

Electric flow and dirty clothes and student loans

Oh god, you gotta pay 'em

The electric flow and student loans and dirty clothes

Oh god, you gotta clean 'em

The attack, I’m feeling the attack, I’m feeling the attack

Of basic social skills I know I know I know I know I lack

I’m hyper cognizant of facts, I’m well aware that we are barely scraping by

My good intentions aren’t enough to salvage that

Give me one, give me two, give me three four five

Give me more per hour so I can afford to pay for food and gas

And bags to throw away the trash

You gotta throw away