This the Champaign grim reaper
We end careers
No apologies
I'll turn your band into a two-piece like Sitrus Sol
Red's Head
Stańczyk
Dumbed Down
Bum Rush
You're next
F*ck Ocean Child
Collecting names and hobbies to Aristotle
My idle hands caked in passive play-doh
I've learned to shed one's dermis at the recommended pace
I've made my last mistake
There is so much to do when you air out a bottle
Sleepwalk in hordes and quote Thoreau
And Dall-E all the pretty pictures so you don't have to paint
Don't make don't give just take
Become a real steppe nomad
Ayahuasca retreat
Add a post-prefix
You don't have to be so hungry if you eat
(Unlimited content)
Oh I see, you just cut for recognition
(With condiments for our continence)
Oh I see, it was a childhood fluke
(From less fortunate continents)
You know what you need?
(You need no more old age no more youth)
To make sure nothing that I ever make will be worth listening to
Beg on my knees to be found
Auto-generated underground
Won't you work in my favor?
Against the mommy-managed music majors
I have a day job regret
I worked my whole life to get
Boring f*cking people to be proud of me
Looking in my eyes as a mirror
Those who dream starve
Those who settle eat
So I seldom sleep
Without boring myself to death as I repeat
You will not make it
It's simple as supply and demand
Without marketing your elevator pitch
You'll never get the chance to be a fad
Too f*cking bad
You're gonna feel real smart when you write this down
So lock your orifices up make sure you listen for that clicking sound
Because someone's already said it just as eloquently not as loud
In 1985 from some New Hampshire preteen's 2-track tape
Some obscure messiah you will follow to your grave
Nothing feels good like using other people's words to say the right things
I wish I had something to say I wish I had something to say I wish I had something to say
Fill up hold your breath and throw right up
Reframe your biggest weakness as your only strength
Just go somewhere
Just do something
You're in another place for f*ck's sake just give me a break
I hope I sound like Sunny Day Real Estate
Roses in wine I can't see straight
I hope you think I sound good
I hope you think I'm great
I hope you think I sound good
I hope I'm just ok
I hope you think I sound good
I hope you can see why people like it maybe
I hope you think I sound good
I hope you say it's just not for you
Eat myself alive
Eat myself alive
Eat myself alive
So what does your band do
Decapitation In The Food Court - I AM THE NEW MEDIA MASTERMIND Lyrics
Decapitation In The Food Court - I AM THE NEW MEDIA MASTERMIND Lyrics
Official
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English
This the Champaign grim reaper
We end careers
No apologies
I'll turn your band into a two-piece like Sitrus Sol
Red's Head
Stańczyk
Dumbed Down
Bum Rush
You're next
F*ck Ocean Child
Collecting names and hobbies to Aristotle
My idle hands caked in passive play-doh
I've learned to shed one's dermis at the recommended pace
I've made my last mistake
There is so much to do when you air out a bottle
Sleepwalk in hordes and quote Thoreau
And Dall-E all the pretty pictures so you don't have to paint
Don't make don't give just take
Become a real steppe nomad
Ayahuasca retreat
Add a post-prefix
You don't have to be so hungry if you eat
(Unlimited content)
Oh I see, you just cut for recognition
(With condiments for our continence)
Oh I see, it was a childhood fluke
(From less fortunate continents)
You know what you need?
(You need no more old age no more youth)
To make sure nothing that I ever make will be worth listening to
Beg on my knees to be found
Auto-generated underground
Won't you work in my favor?
Against the mommy-managed music majors
I have a day job regret
I worked my whole life to get
Boring f*cking people to be proud of me
Looking in my eyes as a mirror
Those who dream starve
Those who settle eat
So I seldom sleep
Without boring myself to death as I repeat
You will not make it
It's simple as supply and demand
Without marketing your elevator pitch
You'll never get the chance to be a fad
Too f*cking bad
You're gonna feel real smart when you write this down
So lock your orifices up make sure you listen for that clicking sound
Because someone's already said it just as eloquently not as loud
In 1985 from some New Hampshire preteen's 2-track tape
Some obscure messiah you will follow to your grave
Nothing feels good like using other people's words to say the right things
I wish I had something to say I wish I had something to say I wish I had something to say
Fill up hold your breath and throw right up
Reframe your biggest weakness as your only strength
Just go somewhere
Just do something
You're in another place for f*ck's sake just give me a break
I hope I sound like Sunny Day Real Estate
Roses in wine I can't see straight
I hope you think I sound good
I hope you think I'm great
I hope you think I sound good
I hope I'm just ok
I hope you think I sound good
I hope you can see why people like it maybe
I hope you think I sound good
I hope you say it's just not for you
Eat myself alive
Eat myself alive
Eat myself alive
So what does your band do
We end careers
No apologies
I'll turn your band into a two-piece like Sitrus Sol
Red's Head
Stańczyk
Dumbed Down
Bum Rush
You're next
F*ck Ocean Child
Collecting names and hobbies to Aristotle
My idle hands caked in passive play-doh
I've learned to shed one's dermis at the recommended pace
I've made my last mistake
There is so much to do when you air out a bottle
Sleepwalk in hordes and quote Thoreau
And Dall-E all the pretty pictures so you don't have to paint
Don't make don't give just take
Become a real steppe nomad
Ayahuasca retreat
Add a post-prefix
You don't have to be so hungry if you eat
(Unlimited content)
Oh I see, you just cut for recognition
(With condiments for our continence)
Oh I see, it was a childhood fluke
(From less fortunate continents)
You know what you need?
(You need no more old age no more youth)
To make sure nothing that I ever make will be worth listening to
Beg on my knees to be found
Auto-generated underground
Won't you work in my favor?
Against the mommy-managed music majors
I have a day job regret
I worked my whole life to get
Boring f*cking people to be proud of me
Looking in my eyes as a mirror
Those who dream starve
Those who settle eat
So I seldom sleep
Without boring myself to death as I repeat
You will not make it
It's simple as supply and demand
Without marketing your elevator pitch
You'll never get the chance to be a fad
Too f*cking bad
You're gonna feel real smart when you write this down
So lock your orifices up make sure you listen for that clicking sound
Because someone's already said it just as eloquently not as loud
In 1985 from some New Hampshire preteen's 2-track tape
Some obscure messiah you will follow to your grave
Nothing feels good like using other people's words to say the right things
I wish I had something to say I wish I had something to say I wish I had something to say
Fill up hold your breath and throw right up
Reframe your biggest weakness as your only strength
Just go somewhere
Just do something
You're in another place for f*ck's sake just give me a break
I hope I sound like Sunny Day Real Estate
Roses in wine I can't see straight
I hope you think I sound good
I hope you think I'm great
I hope you think I sound good
I hope I'm just ok
I hope you think I sound good
I hope you can see why people like it maybe
I hope you think I sound good
I hope you say it's just not for you
Eat myself alive
Eat myself alive
Eat myself alive
So what does your band do
Writer: Joe Carr
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid