Paroles de The Taste Of The End

Who the hell gave you the permission To play what I wrote? You don't even understand it, You're just a bad joke You're mass produced You leave in my tongue The taste of the end You're mass produced The end of (the) scene you proudly talk about You are immoral motherfuckers You think our project's your catwalk? Living-slogan, you're a headline With no sense. Fuck you Did your mom understand the Patch she sewed yesterday? The t-shirts she bought yesterday? There's more ink in your arms than In the songs you'll never write Does your hairdresser know what hardcore means? You are just a parody of yourself Where will you get some more cliches? You are just a lame stereotype Do you think our project's your catwalk?