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de Bomb the Music Industry!

The city subway stations never glisten
The gates rise up like they belong in prison
And my balance is low
I better pick a good place, I got one ride to go

Your fucking cocaine party fucking freaks me out
When did Scott Weiland show up, how long's he sticking around?
I guess this new fare hike means that I'll ride my bike
Play video games and do other stuff that I like

And in the morning, cleaning up, we found these plastic bags
With a little bit of party left, and started to laugh
Man, I'm glad I passed out from the booze and the weed
'Cause the house was up till 6 AM doing speed

Now it's 1 AM and I'm quite a few in
I can barely make out where the bathroom line begins
And it's been moving five inches every fucking five minutes
I want to ask the overprivileged kids

If they would fucking mind, I gotta take a piss in the cocaine room
What is this, the line for lines, a long line for lines?
I'm getting claustrophobia from the twenty-something set with bleary eyes
What is this, the line for lines, a long line for lines?

I, I, I, I don't wanna be part of this Friday night or Saturday night
I, I, I, I don't wanna be part of this line for lines, long line for lines
I, I, I, I don't wanna be part of this night

When I go out these days, all I do is complain
About the booming bass and the shitty DJ
If I wanted to go to a dance club, I'd own a bottle of Brut
A closet full of Christian Dior and I'd be in a different room

'Cause we can dance to Otis Redding, POS, and MIA
And if you're on Serato Scratch, don't call yourself a DJ
Beat detecting's got no attitude, your tempo maps can't fill a room
But lemmings all have dancing shoes

And I'm just freaking out, you're assaulting me with thrusts like I'm an asshole
Sweating to the sounds of Billboard's Hot 100
Like a total yeah, bro! dick, man, I thought that we all lived here 'cause we're different
I guess I was wrong this time, time after time

I, I, I, I don't wanna be part of this Friday night or Saturday night
I, I, I, I don't wanna be part of these coke-y times and eight dollar wines
I, I, I, I don't wanna be part of this night

The city subway stations never glisten
The gates rise up like: What's up? You're in prison!
Confined by alcoholism
And lack of better decisions for having fun on the weekends

But this shitty atmosphere keeps bumming me out
Don't want my Club MTV, I hate Downtown Julie Brown
I guess these new prices hikes will make me grab me light
Climb the fire escape to the roof with a book that I like

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