Admit it!
Despite your pseudo-bohemian appearance
And vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs
You know nothing about art or sex
That you couldn't read in any trendy New York underground fashion magazine
Prototypical non-conformist
You are a vacuous soldier of the thrift store Gestapo
You adhere to a set of standards and tastes
That appear to be determined by an unseen panel of hipster judges (bullshit)
Giving a thumbs up or thumbs down to incoming and outgoing trends and styles of music and art
Go analog baby, you're so post-modern
You're diving face forward into a antiquated path
It's disgusting, its offensive, don't stick your nose up at me

Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa

You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends
Pontificating to each other
Forever competing for that one moment of self-aggrandizing glory
In which you hog the intellectual spotlight
Holding dominion over the entire shallow pointless conversation
Oh, we're not worthy
When you walk by a group of quote-unquote normal people
You chuckle to yourself patting yourself on the back as you scoff
It's the same superiority complex
Shared by the high school jocks who made your life a living hell
And makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma
You spend every moment of your waking life bitching about

Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
And I say yeah, what do you have to say for yourself
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa

'Cause I'm proud of my life and the things that I have done
Proud of myself and the loner I've become
You're free to whine, it will not get you far
I do just fine, my car and my guitar

Proud of my life and the things that I have done
Proud of myself and the loner I've become
You're free to whine, it will not get you far
I do just fine, my car and my guitar, yeah

Well let me tell you this, I am shamelessly self-involved
I spend hours in front of the mirror, making my hair elegantly disheveled
I worry about how this album will sell
Because I believe it will determine the amount of sex I will have in the future
I self medicate with drugs and alcohol to treat my extreme social anxiety

You are a faker (admit it)
You are a fraud (admit it)
Yeah, you're living a lie (hey) living a lie (hey) you're life is living a lie
You don't impress me (admit it)
You don't intimidate me (admit it)
Why don't you bow down, get on the ground, walk this fucking plank (yeah!)

Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
And I say yeah (what do you..)

Proud of my life and the things that I have done
Proud of myself and the loner I've become
You're free to whine, it will not get you far
I do just fine, my car and my..
Guitar, guitar go!

I drift drift drift drift drift yeah
I drift drift drift drift drift yeah oh

And I am done with this
I want to taste the breeze of every great city
My car and my guitar
My car and my guitar
So you'll come to be, made of these, urgent unfulfilled
Oh no no no no no
When I'm dead I'll rest
When I'm dead I'll rest way still
When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest
When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest
When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest
When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest


Lyrics submitted by trinket

Admit It!!! Lyrics as written by Max Bemis

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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Admit It!!! song meanings
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  • -1
    General Comment

    A friend of mine put this onto a mix CD that she made me. This is a very weak "attack" on any sort of trend. It makes me angry to hear this song, not because any of it applies to me (I am a totally normal guy, I do not believe in emulating a particular style), but because the guy just sounds like an elitist ass. How do you attempt to knock people off of their elitist pedastal while still behaving elitist yourself? And the "accusations" he makes sound totally insincere! The part where he mockingly talks about worrying wether or not his album will get him laid, his gimmicky voice hardly makes him sound like he's truly above any of that. Music=sex. I admit this, the best of people admit this, but inherently through the demeanor of this song, this guy himself denies this.

    Does this band call themselves Say Anthing so that they don't have to?

    You want a good hyperactive, panicy sounding band, try Les Savy Fav. At the very least they don't fill their choruses with "woah".

    SpooktheHerdon June 13, 2006   Link

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