| You think you’re Messiah supreme
|
| 'cause you write in a magazine
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| But what’s coming out of your head
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| Makes me wonder if your brain is dead
|
| You think everyone is a star
|
| Just because they got a guitar
|
| Our music is not made for you
|
| 'cause 'bout Metal you don’t have a clue
|
| Pre Chorus
|
| You live your life just to criticize
|
| And sneak around to spread your lies
|
| Among the fools from the mtv
|
| You create a false reality
|
| Hey Mr. Failure, face it
|
| We don’t wanna read your bullshit
|
| Your words are fake, we want 'em no more
|
| You’re a wannabe to the core
|
| Hey Mr. Failure, silence
|
| Because what you say is nonsense
|
| Now take this as a rule
|
| You damn pathetic fool
|
| Oh Mr. Failure, you can’t see what it’s about
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| We’ve had enough, get out!
|
| And leave our ground once and for all
|
| You’re greasing the media machine
|
| With vicious rumours of our scene
|
| You bring our band to your mill
|
| And you grind us just for the thrill
|
| The sick brain of yours never rest
|
| Always plan for what you do best:
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| Oppress, provoke, irritate
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| Ridicule, humiliate
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| Pre Chorus
|
| Solo Both
|
| Bridge
|
| You say you do not like our sound
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| But we do not care, just leave our ground
|
| Heavy Metal is what we play
|
| No matter what you say
|
| Now hear our song and obey |