Fuck them all
because it's us versus them, and we are here filled to the brim
with life and something to say
we want more than a fashion parade
we know your glamour hides your despair
and I've got better things to do than fix my fucking hair
pop-culture at it's very best is a parade of idiots I detest
to those puppets and those pulling their strings--
you'll never cheapen the songs we sing
artistic merit is lost when the "artist" becomes commodified
just another pig impaled on the cross of the almighty dollar sign
another puppet, a dollar whore whose words mean nothing more
than the clothes you wear, or your fucking hair
do us all a favor
quit wasting our precious time