Stuff That I Like - Bomb The Music Industry!, Scrambles

The city subway stations never glisten

The gates rise up like they belong in prison

And my balance is low

I better pick a good place, I got one ride to go

Your fucking cocaine party fucking freaks me out

When did Scott Weiland show up, how long’s he sticking around?

I guess this new fare hike means that I’ll ride my bike

Play video games and do other stuff that I like

And in the morning, cleaning up, we found these plastic bags

With a little bit of party left, and started to laugh

Man, I’m glad I passed out from the booze and the weed

'Cause the house was up till 6 AM doing speed

Now it’s 1 AM and I’m quite a few in

I can barely make out where the bathroom line begins

And it’s been moving five inches every fucking five minutes

I want to ask the overprivileged kids

If they would fucking mind, I gotta take a piss in the cocaine room

What is this, the line for lines, a long line for lines?

I’m getting claustrophobia from the twenty-something set with bleary eyes

What is this, the line for lines, a long line for lines?

I, I, I, I don’t wanna be part of this Friday night or Saturday night

I, I, I, I don’t wanna be part of this line for lines, long line for lines

I, I, I, I don’t wanna be part of this night

When I go out these days, all I do is complain

About the booming bass and the shitty DJ

If I wanted to go to a dance club, I’d own a bottle of Brut

A closet full of Christian Dior and I’d be in a different room

'Cause we can dance to Otis Redding, P.O.S., and M.I.A

And if you’re on Serato Scratch, don’t call yourself a DJ

Beat detecting’s got no attitude, your tempo maps can’t fill a room

But lemmings all have dancing shoes

And I’m just freaking out, you’re assaulting me with thrusts like I’m an asshole

Sweating to the sounds of Billboard’s Hot 100

Like a total «yeah, bro!»

dick, man, I thought that we all lived here 'cause

we’re different

I guess I was wrong this time, time after time

I, I, I, I don’t wanna be part of this Friday night or Saturday night

I, I, I, I don’t wanna be part of these coke-y times and eight dollar wines

I, I, I, I don’t wanna be part of this night

The city subway stations never glisten

The gates rise up like «What's up?

You’re in prison!»

Confined by alcoholism

And lack of better decisions for having fun on the weekends

But this shitty atmosphere keeps bumming me out

Don’t want my Club MTV, I hate Downtown Julie Brown

I guess these new prices hikes will make me grab me light

Climb the fire escape to the roof with a book that I like