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From deep inside the thrift store
A rumble is heard,
Suddenly you fear that you may not live.

The sweat rolls down your moustache;
Reflected in the aviators you see
Platoons of leather jackets
March across the Brooklyn Bridge

Williamsburg will be reduced to ashes and dust,
One hundred mesh hats aflame,
United forces stomp your ivory leather jacket,
And throw your horns to the sky as we proclaim:

Fuckin' metal!

The artist mocks us at thier every turn,
With thier white belts and thier irony.

Fuckin' metal!

Wielding fuckin' metal we wage holy war,
Against our Alabaster enemy.

Fuckin' metal!

Amidst the viscera and trendy bars
And corpses you hide;Amongst the
Brownstones burnt to embers
On the streets you gentrified,

When you realize the tautology
We've started all this time:
YOU FUCKIN' SUCK!

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