I'm not concerned that rock is dead.
Dull monotones and words that don't make any fucking sense.
I won't fuck the real world when it's dead.
New trends, new brands, dreamed by a swarm of talking heads.
There's a slow in the seas, but a growth in disease.
Heavy hands drown the nerves from much pressure beneath.
Dead things will win.

Lyrics submitted by n1njadrum

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