
Date of issue: 19.09.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Sex, Drugs, Rock 'n' Roll |
This is a desk job. |
A data entry five to niner |
Yeah I guess I’m my own boss, but everyone’s my supervisor |
Tell me what kind of living legend would only want a living wage? |
Because I just turned 27 and I’m dying of old age |
Guess I’m just selfish. |
I wanna have but not be had |
And I think «can I sell this? |
the rainfall’s a windfall the fourth wall a |
paywall» — whenever things get bad |
So this is what I choose to do with my redeeming quality |
That thing that came from the same place as my instability |
It’s not a gift if you pay for it, and I don’t want no charity |
I spent all my years to end up right here, and now I really think I’d rather |
leave cause |
I hate sex. |
I hate drugs. |
And I hate rock n' roll. |
And I hate music and my lack |
of self-control |
I hate sex. |
I hate drugs. |
And I hate rock n' roll. |
And I hate proving that I’m |
still human after all |
It’s the death of the author — you read between white chalk outlines |
Well if the pen’s that much stronger; |
then call this hare kari as I kamikaze to |
my career suicide |
I hate these easter bunny encores, 2 and 4 beat claps. |
Stockade stages, |
applause and praise, trying to chuck tomatoes back. |
Newsfeeds, groupies, |
critics, analytics, and starry-eyed stalkers who demand a man in lipstick, |
and a role model psycho but an echo in their chamber, martyr to their dollar |
but a baby in a manger |
Effigy on the alter: the parish they brandish their torches and sway to this |
love song |
«Virginia, walk on my water!» |
Their apocryphal daughters with nerf armor and |
ARs who want me caught with red hands cut my wrists and make me put white |
gloves on |
So go ahead sure, drink my kool-aid. |
It wouldn’t mix well with my meds |
But there’s demand and a market for my brand scars, and I can’t treat the |
trademarks in my head |
I hate to be «that guy,» but I’m not that guy anymore. |
And I made God damn sure |
he’s dead |
And I would dance on his grave, but the music I play seems to say take me |
instead. |
So |
I hate sex. |
I hate drugs. |
And I hate rock n' roll. |
And I hate music and my lack |
of self-control |
I hate sex. |
I hate drugs. |
And I hate rock n' roll. |
And I hate music |
And I hate you kids |
And I hate putting up fourth walls |
And I hate proving that I’m still human after all |
I hate proving that I’m still human |