I'm not here to entertain you
I'm here to meet my friend the Russian
The Irish, the German, the Columbian
I don't care how bad I fuck up
I care about how fucked up I get
I'm not your clown
I'm your dealer
And I'm holding three bindles of bullshit
And you're buyin' them 'cause you are addicted
To the pure and totally uncut
I'm not here to amuse you
I'm here to abuse my body
I'm here because old habits die hard
And seriously, what else am I supposed to do?
This isn't my job, my hobby, my habit
It's sad, but this is my life
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Welcome to our mission statement
Total self-debasement
And not giving our all
Watch us Fall!
It's not that we don't pull it
It's just that we only give about 60 or so percent
Would you rather be fed bullshit
From some 20-something, makeup wearing, popstar
"This one goes out to all our fans all over the world
Without you, we'd just be us.
So, I just wanna say thank you!
We fuckin' love you, Modesto!"
Fuck you!
And you're takin' it easy before the show
So you won't lose your voice
And disappoint your fans routine
Photos
And you don't care about the children
You don't even know them
All you know is their money
We're the band with our own label
That's money under the table, that's answering to no one
But still, other bands just love to hate us
Talking shit behind us, but smiling to our face
That's OK, it's not that they don't like us
They're just a little jealous, cause
we're having more fun
(the band that wouldn't die)
We're the self-crowned kings of candor, sultans of slander
Bastions of D.I.Y.
Which means we make more money, we've got better prescriptions
We own most of our own music, no one's got their hands in our pockets
We don't have management, we get to play loaded
and only 3 months a year
Some years we just take off, vacations are a write off,
and so is goin' out (fuck us)
I suppose that's how we'll go out,
played out and way after our time
Artist: The Hoosiers
Artist: Matt Costa
Artist: Blue Rodeo