To all the bands that sing about being bored
And love songs without love
I hope you're all ignored
Impressive frowns on faces as a facade
But don't scream to be heard
If its silence that hurts
Giving up, with a smile
Minor chords of disenchantment
And
Beautifully said but horribly done
Exclamation marks are hollow
And my question marks not satisfied
Fiercely waving white flags in an ironic way
The ambiguity lacks
Responsibility
An extension of the market
Making social critique
Into a commodity
In the culture industry
Giving up, with a smile
Minor chords of disenchantment
And
Beautifully said but horribly done
Exclamation marks are hollow
And my question marks not satisfied
Sharpen riffs
With the blunt knife
Of all the false promises
Amplify your traumas and harmonise
With tinnitus
Nihilism teases
But I don't need a pinch
'Cause the pain reminds me that I'm alive
Bleeding eyes, ringing ears
The sweet taste of the fruit of practise
Touches my
Chapped lips, runny nose
Warm yourself with flames of anger
