There once was a place that raised your skin,
a place of inspiration.
Now every time you speak of it,
it's only of complaining.

There once was a man who screamed and danced
with unbridled passion.
Now the same man sits on his hands,
narrow with opinions.

The First Seven Inch Club.
The First Seven Inch Club.
You've turned resistance into dust.
You stand, you stare, wishing you were there.
You're older, you're pissed, but mostly you are scared.
Don't look back, please don't look back.
And take your old T-shirt of some band
that no one's ever heard of, broke up in '93.
And log off your super hardcore chat-rooms
where only super spineless talk only about me.

Cause I won't take this anymore.
Let's take back what we love,
what makes us feel alive.

I'm not impressed, I'm not impressed, I'm not impressed....
I'm not impressed with colored vinyl in your mother's hope chest.
I'm not impressed with "ex-member" info in your fucking sheltered head.
Fuck you scenesters, CD reviewers, violent dancers.

You stand, you stare wishing you were there.
You're older. You're pissed. But mostly you are scared.
Fuck you scenesters, CD reviewers, violent dancers, EVERYONE.


Lyrics submitted by a scar in the sky

The First Seven Inch Club song meanings
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