| This is a song about nothing
|
| Oh no, not a single thing
|
| 'Cause in the absence of content
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| I hope that you’ll forget
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| That all this shit never meant a thing
|
| I’m gonna yell until the vacuum rips my lungs
|
| Hope you don’t notice all the vacancy that’s
|
| Wrapped around my tongue
|
| Don’t worry, boys, you know it’s better off this way
|
| They cannot tear apart that what you did not create
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| We all die for the beatdown
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| While you live for the hype
|
| Now we start the dissection
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| Of everything other than feeling
|
| Like opinions and values, the things that we use
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| To give our art some meaning
|
| But, baby, thoughts don’t sell
|
| Just bottle the mood
|
| Maybe I can just bottle myself
|
| Can you say if that sells?
|
| Let’s just regurgitate a couple concepts
|
| And hope it all pays well
|
| I’m gonna yell until the vacuum rips my lungs
|
| Hope you don’t notice all the vacancy that’s
|
| Wrapped around my tongue
|
| Don’t worry, boys, you know it’s better off this way
|
| They cannot tear apart that what you did not create
|
| Now this is the part of the song
|
| Where we slow shit way down for you
|
| So you can all kill each other
|
| It doesn’t even matter what I’m saying here anyway
|
| Can you even understand a fucking word I say?
|
| Mosh call
|
| Generic mosh call
|
| It must be nice to say nothing
|
| Nothing
|
| Mosh call
|
| Generic mosh call
|
| It must be nice to say nothing at all
|
| Mosh call
|
| One more generic mosh call
|
| It must be nice to say nothing
|
| Nothing |