who the hell have i been kidding?
i sold my soul to the corporation
they know me better then i know myself
i better shut it up, i better shut it up
you got a problem with the way i think
i got a problem with the way you think
that you can program me, like a damn machine
i'm going to take a stand
and say fuck this scene
i'm sick of imagery
instead of artistry
i'm sick of apathy
instead of harmony
i'm sick of poets working part time jobs
while pissy people picking shoes and stars
i know that i should be
the last one to speak
but even sell- outs have their dreams
set the music free.
ba da da da, da da da ba da da da. ooooh,
what the hell was i trying to prove
i ran away so young,
and now on the move
like a vandal
i wear my mask
and all you punks back home
you can kiss my ass
cause i got a feelin' deep down inside my soul
that's taken three whole years to gain control.
and i ain't no never, no never, no never, no never, no never, no never, no never coming home.
ba da da da, da da da, da da, da, da da da da, ba da da da da