15/09/08 you people ...

Admit it!Despite your pseudo-bohemian appearance
And vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs You know nothing about art or sex
That you couldn’t read in any trendy
New York underground fashion magazine Prototypical non-conformist
You are a vacuous soldier of the thrift store Gestapo
You adhere to a set of standards and tastes
That appear to be determined by an unseen panel of hipster judges (bullshit)
Giving a thumbs up or thumbs down to incoming and outgoing trends and styles of music and art Go analog baby, you’re so post-modern
You’re diving face forward into a antiquated past
It’s disgusting, it's offensive, don’t stick your nose up at me
Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself?
What do you have to say for yourself
You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends
Pontificating to each other
Forever competing for that one moment of self-aggrandizing glory
In which you hog the intellectual spotlight
Holding dominion over the entire shallow pointless conversation
(Oh, we’re not worthy)
When you walk by a group of quote-unquote normal people
You chuckle to yourself patting yourself on the back as you scoff
It's the same superiority complex
Shared by the high school jocks who made your life a living hell
And makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma
You spend every moment of your waking life bitching about
Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself?
What do you have to say for yourself?
Well let me tell you this, I am shamelessly self-involved I spend hours in front of the mirror, making my hair elegantly disheveled
I worry about how this album will sell
Because I believe it will determine the amount of sex I will have in the future
I self medicate with drugs and alcohol to treat my extreme social anxiety
You are a faker (admit it) You are a fraud (admit it)
Yeah, you’re living a lie living a lie, you’re life is living a lie
You don’t impress me (admit it) You don’t intimidate me (admit it)
Why don’t you bow down, get on the ground, walk this fucking plank
Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself
And I am done with this I wanna taste the breeze of every great city
So you'll come to be, made of these urges unfulfilled

Oh no, no, no, no, no When I'm dead I'll rest When I'm dead I'll rest, lay stillWhen I'm dead I'll rest, I'll restWhen I'm dead I'll rest, I'll restWhen I'm dead I'll rest, I'll restWhen I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest


i hate the self proclaimed hipsters,
i hate people who stereotype themselves to be hipsters
i hate the word "hipster" in all its meaning.

i did not write this, i'm just quoting it, i guess.

4 comments:

nik said...

where do you got this text from??? wanna hear somebody saying it

elle said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
elle said...

Yeah, it would be great as a spoken word piece, or something.

megh said...

say anything!!
:)