| And when the underworld’s
|
| Best kept secrets
|
| Saw it’s own reflection
|
| I knew things had finally changed
|
| For better or worse
|
| Whatever as always
|
| Midlife fires start to burn
|
| They burn down our worn protection
|
| I won’t take pictures from their frame
|
| Whatever as always
|
| With their hands that sold me everything
|
| Slapped a price tag on my chest
|
| Bit my tongue and shut my mouth
|
| Tried to blend in with the rest
|
| But I’m a square peg
|
| I’m a sore thumb
|
| And it seems to me this apathy
|
| Kills the life and honesty
|
| It will deepen industry
|
| All these songs sound so damn good
|
| Even if their meaning’s hollow
|
| Hollow words dry out your mouth
|
| And you might find it hard to swallow all this shit
|
| That we keep feeding to keep ourselves and you believing
|
| That no money can change us then a door opens up and some devil persuades us
|
| The songs we sung when we were just young
|
| Have all but lost their meaning
|
| But there’s still a few things
|
| Still a few things
|
| Still a few things
|
| That we keep on believing
|
| Still a few things
|
| There’s still a few things
|
| That we keep on believing
|
| Shitty music just ain’t worth making
|
| Smiles and thank-yous just ain’t worth faking
|
| Some assholes' hands ain’t worth shaking
|
| And if it’s not broken we need to break it
|
| There’s no such thing as unconditional
|
| No contracts bind you in the end
|
| Make no mistake, this is a killing ground
|
| Blood hungry and camouflaged as friend
|
| Select yes
|
| At the end of this mess
|
| If you get there, then it’s your only fucking option left
|
| These days I don’t know
|
| The people I’m supposed to trust
|
| And I don’t trust these people
|
| That I’m supposed to know
|
| The handlebars on my dreams, they slowly start to rust
|
| Helped take everything and somehow you still know
|
| And as the cocaine cowboys finally get their wings
|
| And sell them all for blow
|
| These days I don’t know these people that I’m supposed to trust
|
| And I don’t trust these motherfuckers that I’m supposed to know
|
| These handlebars on all my dreams, they slowly start to rust
|
| The cocaine cowboys finally get their wings too
|
| Now they sell them all for blow
|
| I make music for myself, not for handjobs from the upper-tier or their
|
| undeserved wealth
|
| Here’s to their failing fucking health
|
| I don’t mean this in a hateful way, but when the people you love start walking
|
| away
|
| The world gets harder each and every day
|
| Take your last bite before it crumbles away
|
| There’s something inside me I just have to say
|
| Love nothing
|
| Trust no one
|
| Just live for the motherfucking day |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dunsel, artist - Protest The Hero. Album song Scurrilous, in the genre Прогрессив-метал