Rock N Roll has such a terrible name, who is to blame?
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Perching birds drug by a string in the air, stitched together with careless intention.
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Cleaner than the dagger that hollowed it out.
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Masked and forgotten or no face at all.
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It¡¯s got something or nothing to say.
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Yeah don¡¯t we all?
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A trance and a trust fund stitched at the same time and sold to the hogs.
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All eyes on you. Whatever it takes the bottom line is the only one that you¡¯ll cross.
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Keep selling what they want to hear, arrogant and insincere.
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You¡¯ve got something to say, but what¡¯s the pay? A million before you and more in line.
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I¡¯ve seen it a thousand times.
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Built to die and dying.
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Built to last and lasting.
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Go along to get along.
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I will not be defiled by the kings¡¯ meat.
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The noise ain¡¯t noise anymore, who¡¯s to blame?
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You and I.
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If You Got It At Five, You Got It At Fifty
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| Norma Jean Band |
