I don't want your money, i want your job
you're in it for the paycheck man that's all
but we put our hearts in every song and it might be a waste of time
but it's all we got
you've become a memory
a musical lobotomy
everything you said is dead and gone
your bullshit rock and roll
it's got no fucking soul
you cashed in and now look what you've become
playing to the market
aimed at teens draped in targets
go on man, bring out the firing squad
lyrics shooting lies
hidden behind your disguise
driven by bank accounts applaud
but we'll, we'll play on and on
it's all we got