Counterfeit, all you tools make me sick. You're nothing, but dumb shits. You're all lost in reality. Searching for acceptance from morons. Putting on a front, for what? You're masquerading, fucking wannabes. Pussy-shits releasing weak-ass hits, millions of bucks and chicks, the mainstream is a monopoly. No room for those who are reaching for; spilling guts on the floor; in this joke, the music industry. Denying doubt. Pursuing dreams. Turned inside out, a harrowing scream. Living for a hope not lost before, nor will it ever become a lost, fucking fantasy. 'Cause I will try to live my fucking life knowing I never lied to myself about what's real to me. It'll never fail my longing for the day, when our music's played, our everlasting integrity. Denying doubt. Pursuing dreams. Turned inside out, a harrowing scream. Fucking blind labels' greed left behind. For this I bleed. Do you believe in fate; Well do you? Fucking weak-ass songs plague the airwaves. Fucking nauseating noise played, I'm wondering how it came to be. Fuck it all. Fuck them all. Fuck you all; now fuck you... fake-ass pricks. Just come suck this dick and fucking swallow it. You retarded confused, shallow breed. On your knees, bow to this gratefully. Maybe you'll finally see that your style ain't shit, you're a wannabe. Your identity is a mystery. You are not real to me. You're undeserving of my sympathy. Apathy equals non-conformity, a threat to majority. Helping instigate brutality. For this I bleed.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
