1. |
Max Brooks
01:36
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Let me get this straight: You're a web of fucking lies,
Caught up in part by the facts lost inside.
You've waged for war without a virus.
Deceived the bait class by the millions.
Completely insincere, and look who wrote a book!
The bud of our joke.
An autograph, an interview.
Fame and money, some douche gave you a good review.
You'll pay for it in blood, I'll see to it, if it's all I do.
HEY MAX BROOKS,
Suck a fuck you fucking douche.
I'll tear every page from your book to find satisfaction in my outlook.
I'll feed you to all of your fans,
life taken by apocalyptic hands.
Hey, Max brooks:
Suck a fuck!
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2. |
You Listen to the Words?
02:22
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We've written another song, context you don't care about.
Doesn't surprise me in the least bit that you're singing along.
You drive a hard bargain but drive a faster car.
Are you kidding?
This isn't any different, it's just a little safer.
It's nothing I can't handle, it's just a little headache.
And now stress overwhelms me, and weekends mean the world.
It all comes down to labor, to friends and food at night.
All my friends are critics, and it's something that I'm used to.
All my friends are critics, including you to.
You.
Three months down.
Four months down.
Six months down.
All my friends are critics, and it's something that I'm used to.
All my friends are critics. They told me fuck you.
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3. |
Hot Dog Forest
02:35
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You're trying to make the most of your days,
While I look for food, a cold place to stay.
A place so new to me, I could amount to nothing,
And live amongst my grief without being bothered.
Finding comfort in the absence of sex and acceptance.
Restricted by a clipboard, an almost certain fate.
To compete would contradict these values that I hate.
The concept of happiness, the habits we desire.
A repetitive song that means nothing to me.
Look at these pages, they mean nothing to me.
Acceptance, accept.
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4. |
Constant
03:56
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Black Jesus Constant Houghton, Michigan
2006-2010
Trav, Dillon, Logan, Ray
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