Holy Moly Lyrics
- Genre:Rock
- Year of Release:2017
Lyrics
We'll bury our nerves outside the suburbs,
'Cause that would be too close to home
I'm just no fun just for fun
I put the "cunt" in "contrarian"
And if the glass is half-full,
That just means I'm not done
What's wrong with you kids?
Why can't you do shit
without getting your hearts broken?
"En garde, ennui! Je suis l'enfant terrible!"
Oh, merci!
I'm not your bro
But sure, I'll take a bump, though
You'll end up like some Peter Panhandler (That's what you get!)
Folks will pinch their noses when they pass
When the neighbor kids get bored they'll
Cover you in trash (That's what you get!)
When they get drunk they'll just kick your ass
That's what you get, get
Repetition bores us, abuse that thesaurus
And you should probably hit a dictionary
Would you believe? God has called on me
To call out sick with something make believe!
Delusion, every allusion to books you never read in high school
You'll end up like Alexander Supertramp (That's what you get!)
Dead in a van in the woods someplace
You'll pick poison berries
And stuff your face (That's what you get!)
And shit out your last breath 'cause you had "something to say"
I'm not a burnout, I am an artist
These white boys are all the same
They think they're so clever
Like the coolest thing you could do
Is say "fuck" on a record
But that's not true
That's not the coolest thing you could do
The coolest thing you could do
Is probably say "cunt" on a record
Cunt
Cunt
Cunt
Cunt
Cunt
I'm not a burnout
I am an artist