Letras
I fucking love that one live video where
That fucking fatass boy millionaire
Prances around by far the worst
Salad ditch party on earth
Where Batman says his con-arts build shaking hands
With that incredibly diverse selection of patriotic skins
I like the message it sends
Fucking goof
Wankle, rebel, yell
Just do exactly what you're told
One million douchebags can't be wrong
When has punk rock become so safe
That you'll excuse me if I laugh in your face
While I atomize your receipt
Power play your balance sheet
I hear the sea of fans will turn storm green
I guess they heard that money grows on trees
Hope they ship more shitting bands overseas
Like they did the Vagaries
Music's power to
Describe, compel, renew
Pathologies and sicker too
The offers we can't refuse
Remember when we used to believe
That music was a sacred place
Not some fucking bank machine
Not something you just bought and sold
How could we have been so naive
I think when all is said and done
Just 'cause we were young
It don't mean we were wrong
And I'll rock back and forth
On this two-bit hobby horse
'Til she splinters and gives way
I'll tend the flowers by her grave
And whisper her name
If anyone out there understands
Can I please see a show of hands
Just so I know I'm not insane
Ever get the feeling you've been played?
Well that's rock for sustainable
Capitalism that you know
We may face a scorched and lifeless earth
But they're accountable to their shareholders first
That's how the world works