The Taste of the End
Who the hell gave you the permission
To play what I wrote?
You don't even understand it
You're just a bad joke
You're a mass produced
You leave in my tongue the taste of the end
You're mass produced
The end of the scene you proudly talk about
You are immoral motherfuckers
You think our project's your catwalk?
Living-slogan, you're a headline
With no sense, fuck you!
Did your mom understand the patch she sewed yesterday?
The t-shirts she bought yesterday?
There's more ink in your arms than in the songs you'll never write
Does you hairdresser know what hardcore means?
You are just a parody of yourself
Where will you get some more clichés?
You are just a lame stereotype
Do you think our project's your catwalk?