| Waistcoats, braces and a cheap smile, keep them in a big pile make them die.
|
| Paint those nails, paint them like a big child, indie growing metafile they’ll
|
| catch my eye.
|
| You look like a hairstyle, you look like a boy named Kyle. |
| You look like a
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| hairstyle, you look vile. |
| You look like a hairstyle, you look like a boy named
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| Kyle. |
| You look like a hairstyle, you look vile.
|
| And they say watch your mouth or they’ll never put your record out.
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| They’ll print your vinyl inside out, I should know. |
| Don’t say fuck,
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| it’s better to say truck or duck. |
| I was in a bed once, I should know.
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| You indie monster, you’ve got a shrunken head. |
| Even when you’re at your best
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| I’d still like bump heads until you stop breathing, stop breathing,
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| I want you dead. |
| Even when you look your best you still look underfeed.
|
| I keep seeing you scoping round nightclubs with your ridiculous head.
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| I wonder oh I wonder bout all those things you said. |
| And now I’ve got this
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| urge, it comes itself and goes away. |
| I’m tying conkers to a lace,
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| and smashing teeth right off your face.
|
| You indie monster, you’ve got a shrunken head. |
| Even when you’re at you’re at
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| your best I’d still like to bump heads until you, stop breathing,
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| stop breathing. |
| I want you dead. |
| Even when you’re at your best you still look
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| underfeed.
|
| You can’t be found, go slide around. |
| You’re not much more than faggot.
|
| You can’t be found, go slide around. |
| You’re not much more than faggot.
|
| You can’t be found, go slide around. |
| You’re not much more than faggot.
|
| I left you in the ground. |
| Turn those speakers up real loud. |
| You can’t be found,
|
| go slide around. |
| You’re not much more than faggot now. |