We're not what you think we are

We make product and place it in stores

But we're just selling our songs

See you in hell!

We'll pick you up by your ankles

and shake you down for a record or two

'Til all the money is spilling out of your pockets

And any beauty we create, we will sell it

We've got your contrast, we've got your art

And you can strum as fast as you like

Can you feel it?

The hint of rot right beneath the music?

We never believed