They said 'our youth was dead' how could they know?
we're stinking in our beds we're lyin' low
your plastic culture sucks and it's gonna blow

scrape the cake from faces 'til they're raw and bloodied
use their grisled blood to grease our tracks
take their speaking money for an understudy
stick a bony finger down their gullets 'til they vomit up the past

let either side confess, they do not know
I really could care less who paves the roads
your plastic order sucks and it's gonna blow

desecrate their formulae for total boredom
beat their subtle nuances to mush
take both fists and cram them into wholly whoredom
split their skulls and addle what's inside until their pimps and agents blush


Lyrics submitted by lasthourrr

Aroma of Gina Arnold song meanings
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