Letra de 'Does Your Face Hurt? No? 'Cause It's Killing Me!!!' de Bomb The Music Industry!

Take a look at your haircut, you're killing me
Take a look at your glasses, you're killing me
Placement of the piercings, you're killing me
Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight

Take a look at your ripped jeans, you're killing me
Take a look at your converse, you're killing me
Get a shirt that fits you, you're killing me
Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight

Someone the other day was telling me about marketing
And how it's so important for a band to sell a t-shirt
I told him that the money goes right back into the same thing
And now we're just a breeding ground for more and more consumers

Sellout, shmellout, it's not about that
But all my problems seem to stem from cash
I got my beliefs and I don't care if they're right
But if we don't meet our quota, man, we're gonna get into another fight

Soon we'll be in the clear when we get out of here
Where style is function and our egos make us fight
For now we'll live in fear, we're not sexy enough for this atmosphere
Someone blow it up tonight, we'll fight, fight, fight, fight

Take a look at your haircut, you're killing me
Take a look at your glasses, you're killing me
Placement of the piercings, are you kidding me?
Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight

Take a look at your ripped jeans, you're killing me
Take a look at your converse, you're killing me
Get a shirt that fits you, you're killing me
Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight

Williamsburg has got the lights down low
And a moron with a laptop is calling this poetry
A singer with a thrift amp, vintage circuitry
On the cover of bop or seventeen

I'm so lonely, life is empty
Where's my coke and fucking money?
Tonight at the bar I got a good look at the enemy
He said: My job's looking good and someone else can write the songs for me

Soon we'll be in the clear when we get out of here
Where style is function and our egos make us fight
For now we'll live in fear, we're not sexy enough for this atmosphere
Someone blow it up tonight, please blow it up tonight

Now we're cloning sheep
Writing garbage in their diaries
Reading their ap
And watching fuse TV

Kill it, c'est la vie
Fashion show equals your scene
Bomb the industry, yeah

Then run away or watch the blast
I'm getting out so kiss my ass
I'm going nowhere, nowhere fast
I'm going nowhere, nowhere fast