Lyrics No Rest For the Whiny - Bomb The Music Industry!

No Rest For the Whiny

We got knocked off the horse and we can’t get back up
We can try to change but we’ve still got our bills
That we gotta pay, and the payments stay the same
No matter where you move, no matter how cheap the rent
Stop screaming for a change, start screaming for a wage
And the irony of plastic is when it starts replacing cash
Soon enough you have no cash and it gets replaced with debt
And all you’re left with is past mistakes and the envelopes change color
All dimly lit pastels, they go white and then to yellow then to pink
It’s like a fucking party to celebrate that you are fucked
Electric flow and dirty clothes and student loans
Oh god, you gotta pay 'em
Electric flow and student loans and dirty clothes
Oh god, you gotta pay 'em, gotta pay 'em, gotta pay 'em, gotta pay 'em, pay 'em
While you can’t get a decent wage, I still can’t find a job
Yeah, my life just repeats the 2005 series
Of rejected applications and me botching interviews
And waiting for phone calls from a temp agency that never calls at all
It’s never easy but it’s always
The electric flow and dirty clothes and student loans
Oh god, you gotta pay 'em
The electric flow and dirty clothes and student loans
Oh god, you gotta pay 'em
The attack, I’m feeling the attack, I’m feeling the attack
Of basic social skills I know I know I know I know I lack
I’m hyper cognizant of facts, I’m well aware that we are barely scraping by
My good intentions aren’t enough to salvage that
Give me one, give me two, give me three four five
Give me more per hour so I can afford to pay for food and gas
And bags to throw away the trash
You gotta throw away the trash
It’s hard to pay the bills when you can’t work a forty hour week
It’s hard to interview when I am too depressed to even speak
It’s hard to have a blast when we spend all our spare time feeling weak
Because we’re thinking about that
Electric flow and dirty clothes and student loans
Oh god, you gotta pay 'em
The electric flow and student loans and dirty clothes
Oh god, you gotta clean 'em
The attack, I’m feeling the attack, I’m feeling the attack
Of basic social skills I know I know I know I know I lack
I’m hyper cognizant of facts, I’m well aware that we are barely scraping by
My good intentions aren’t enough to salvage that
Give me one, give me two, give me three four five
Give me more per hour so I can afford to pay for food and gas
And bags to throw away the trash
You gotta throw away