People Pops & Fudgesicles for the Hit Factory - The Arrogant Sons Of Bitches

I’m sorry that you’ve all gone soft

Advanced apologies required now for pissing you off?

I’ll deny all of this to your face

Quit claiming to be indie rock

Because you aren’t independent, and your rock and roll’s fucked

I’ll get the coffin, you supplied your own hammer

(Please, please, please, please, please)

We’ll put a nail in it, I hope the scene can fit

We’ll throw it in the pit

As a sacrifice for middle aged men and screaming girls

(Please, please, please, please, please)

Your scene is full of shit, so start killing it

Don’t be the hypocrite

The last teary-eyed thrift-store mope star in the world

A victim of the latest hoax

The iconoclasts have lied and you’re not in on the joke

Prove they’re not what they claim to be

Your money, gonna get your money, oh!

Criticize all that I’ve said

'Cause if I wasn’t so pretentious, I’d cash in on the trend

Do lines, double fist pills, and O. D

(Please, please, please, please, please)

Stop singin' it!

Stop singin' it!

You’re too serious!

How can you crack a smile if you can’t laugh at yourself?

(Please, please, please, please, please)

You think you’re legit, you’re just the idiot

Here’s how to deal with it

Bringing the asshole and douchebag level down

Ba-ba-ba-ba

I’m not a part of your scene (ba ba)

Where fashion meets choreography

Your haircut is stupid, your pants are uncomfortable

You systematically plan every awkward forced guitar spin

Your emotion is a joke, your emotion is a joke

Your emotion’s B-U-L-L-fucking-shit!

(Ba ba-ba-da, ba-ba-da, ba-ba-da

Ba ba ba-ba-ba-da, ah!)

All your favorite bands do coke, sorry

(Please, please, please, please, please)

Stop singin' it!

Stop singin' it!

It’s too serious!

How can you crack a smile if you can’t laugh at yourself?

(Please, please, please, please, please)

You think you’re legit, you’re just the idiot

Here’s how to deal with it

Bringing the asshole and douchebag level down, oh!

(Please, please, please, please, please)

Stop singing that shit, we’re tired of it

Start killing it, start killing it

Kick the baggage and the ego to the ground

(Please, please, please, please, please)

Stop singing that shit, we’re so tired of it

Start killing it, oh, so I can

Kick the rotting carcass of your sound

«What you’ve got is, uh, a whole miserable subculture»