歌词
Write until your fingers bleed
Until you've forgotten how to sleep
Now meditate on a melody
And push away the thoughts of this last time around
'Cause they're gonna dig your new sound
This one comes from the soul
Well if I knew just what you wanted
Would it be as you say?
Hanging on your indecision
For another day
Is this it? Is this it?
So you change the record, begin again
It starts to feel so counterfeit
So you make a brand new start
And when the inspiration hits
Is this it? Is this it?
The elevation
Of your self importance
Like the passing of everything I once knew and loved
I'd say that
We're just moving backwards
But your existence is something that's gone way beyond
The short hand
Judgements of a bedroom snob
Whose publication you never heard of
I keep burning
On your postulations
Like the feels of a song you listened to the first twenty seconds of
The soundscape is so dull, and who's to blame
With the kind of culture we create
But who gives a fuck about the message here
Market away your life for a just few more plays
With all the garage kids all laid to waste
Scene sold out many years ago
The elevation
Of your self importance
Like the passing of everything I once knew and loved
I'd say that
We're just moving backwards
But your existence is something that's gone way beyond
The short hand
Judgements of a bedroom snob
Whose publication you never heard of
I keep burning
On your postulations
Like the feels of a song you heard the first twenty seconds of