Waistcoats, braces and a cheap smile, keep them in a big pile make them die. Paint those nails, paint them like a big child, indie growing metafile they'll catch my eye.
You look like a hairstyle, you look like a boy named Kyle. You look like a hairstyle, you look vile. You look like a hairstyle, you look like a boy named Kyle. You look like a hairstyle, you look vile.
And they say watch your mouth or they'll never put your record out. They'll print your vinyl inside out, I should know. Don't say fuck, it's better to say truck or duck. I was in a bed once, I should know.
You indie monster, you've got a shrunken head. Even when you're at your best I'd still like bump heads until you stop breathing, stop breathing, I want you dead. Even when you look your best you still look underfeed.
I keep seeing you scoping round nightclubs with your ridiculous head. I wonder oh I wonder bout all those things you said. And now I've got this urge, it comes itself and goes away. I'm tying conkers to a lace, and smashing teeth right off your face.
You indie monster, you've got a shrunken head. Even when you're at you're at your best I'd still like to bump heads until you, stop breathing, stop breathing. I want you dead. Even when you're at your best you still look underfeed.
You can't be found, go slide around. You're not much more than faggot. You can't be found, go slide around. You're not much more than faggot. You can't be found, go slide around. You're not much more than faggot.
I left you in the ground. Turn those speakers up real loud. You can't be found, go slide around. You're not much more than faggot now.