Lyrics Drop the Stylist - Die Goldenen Zitronen, Mark Stewart, Melissa Logan

Drop the Stylist

Drop the stylist, closet fascist
Oi, mate.
You’re just a fake
With your pet vampire
Speaking the language of snakes
Your politics of envy
Completely bore me
Coporate cock-sucker
Try to mediawhore me
Your politics of envy just bore me
Like a hollywood vampire
You feed off the fans
Impossible princess throw your toys out of the prem
Oi, mates
Put down to get up
Put down to get up
Put down to get up
Put down to get up
Branded, barcoded, electronicly nummed
Even Iggy told me: You’re no fun
In fact you’re scum
Oh, you think you’re so chi-chi, you think you’re all that
Put down to get up
Put down to get up — A blabbering drug monkey
Put down to get up — A lab rat
Put down to get up
OK, Celebrety-ism
Pink flavour of the week is tempting
The perks irresistable
On top by cutting others off
Fear driven, put down to get up
Afraid to fall, afraid to fall
Mark Stewart:
D-F-F-1−1-X, a bad day-time TV
You’re a walking exhibition in a shooting gallery
In fact, you’re king stupid
You think you’re all the rage
But you’re not even king of your cage
Becoming a cliché
Oi mates
Cannibal kids
Why did it have to come to this?
Cannibal kids
Why did it have to come to this?
Put down to get up
Cannibal kids
Put down to get up
Put down to get up
Cannibal kids
Like Kennedy Onassis and Howard Hughes
Have you never felt like you were being used
Under the spell of the spectacle