Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Does Your Face Hurt? No? 'Cause It's Killing Me!!!, artist - Bomb The Music Industry!. Album song Album Minus Band, in the genre Панк
Date of issue: 10.05.2010
Record label: Asian Man
Song language: English
Does Your Face Hurt? No? 'Cause It's Killing Me!!! |
Take a look at your haircut, you’re killing me |
Take a look at your glasses, you’re killing me |
Placement of the piercings, you’re killing me |
Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight |
Take a look at your ripped jeans, you’re killing me |
Take a look at your Converse, you’re killing me |
Get a shirt that fits you, you’re killing me |
Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight |
Someone the other day was telling me about marketing |
And how it’s so important for a band to sell a t-shirt |
I told him that the money goes right back into the same thing |
And now we’re just a breeding ground for more and more consumers |
Sellout, shmellout, it’s not about that |
But all my problems seem to stem from cash |
I got my beliefs and I don’t care if they’re right |
But if we don’t meet our quota, man, we’re gonna get into another fight |
Soon we’ll be in the clear when we get out of here |
Where style is function and our egos make us fight |
For now we’ll live in fear, we’re not sexy enough for this atmosphere |
Someone blow it up tonight, we’ll fight, fight, fight, fight |
Take a look at your haircut, you’re killing me |
Take a look at your glasses, you’re killing me |
Placement of the piercings, are you kidding me? |
Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight |
Williamsburg has got the lights down low |
And a moron with a laptop is calling this poetry |
A singer with a thrift amp — «vintage circuitry» |
On the cover of Bop or Seventeen |
I’m so lonely, life is empty |
Where’s my coke and fucking money? |
Tonight at the bar I got a good look at the enemy |
He said «My job’s looking good and someone else can write the songs for me» |
Soon we’ll be in the clear when we get out of here |
Where style is function and our egos make us fight |
For now we’ll live in fear, we’re not sexy enough for this atmosphere |
Someone blow it up tonight, please blow it up tonight |
Now we’re cloning sheep |
Writing garbage in their diaries |
Reading their AP |
And watching Fuse TV |
Kill it, c’est la vie |
Fashion show equals your scene |
Bomb the industry, yeah |
Then run away or watch the blast |
I’m getting out so kiss my ass |
I’m going nowhere, nowhere fast |
I’m going nowhere, nowhere fast |