We hear your one hand clapping.
It's music to our ears.
You don't like the way we sound.
We don't like the way you hear.

Sorry we ain't hard enough to piss your parents off.
Hatred's not our policy.
We tried that game and lost.
You keep saying you're just killing time.
Be careful,
You're killing some of mine.

I don't want it.
Keep it to yourself.
You can't help it,
So put it on a shelf.
Well hate makes hate.
It percolates.

You're brewing up a storm.
This song's the head of your coffee spoon,
Mirroring your form.
The distortion's pretty accurate.

I'd say your head's about that size.
Your vision's been so stricken by those beady little eyes.
And all the broken nursery rhymes.
Old hopes cracked open by cynical minds.
We'll try to work them out sometime.

I wouldn't want to be so cool in a world about to freeze.
You're so hard you're brittle.
You shatter easily.
And no one's there to pick you up
Cause you fucked with all your friends.
Lying there like an unpieced puzzle nobody can mend.

Lyrics submitted by oofus

Incomplete Lyrics as written by Doug Millett Derek William Dick

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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Incomplete song meanings
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  • +1
    General CommentAnybody have any idea who the teacher is who left the voice message at the beginning of the song, what the circumstances of that voice message were, and whether he was ever made aware of his minor celebrity in turn-of-the-'90s post-hardcore? Where is he now? Is he still teaching? And, perhaps most importantly, did Adam opt for the incomplete or the D? I always imagined that the band included that message as a wry explanation of what being in a band can do to your GPA.
    scooperon May 14, 2009   Link

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