Tattoo your neck and pretend you have the right To breathe the same air as me just overnight You are the brand new infection The infestation – The noise That can’t decide on where to steer the helm So you never try - Never care to make a choice
You say it validates your art That it is proof of your devotion It’s a tub of lard When a fat joke isn’t that funny Just excrement from the bowels Of the mother of all that is junk
Metal-Core Insecticide This is Metal-Core Insecticide
More hellbent on the way you look You gimmicks and your shitty hooks A hallowed shell or a shallow hell A first grade poop deliverer
Your greasy hairdos Your excessive body art It’s not proof of your devotion It’s a tub of lard An awkward pile of shit – It’s the exodus of wit And to the idiot down the line It’s just a sign of the times
You are the new grunge What happens now has happened before It doesn’t matter if you think you’ll live You’ll never survive It is the natural order of things The higher you fly the further you fall Once you are replaced
Metal-Core Insecticide -There will be no room for you Metal-Core Insecticide -In just a few years you’re thru Metal-Core Insecticide -And there is nothing that you can do…Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
