Well I hate to be the one to tell you,
the one to bring you down,
cause you're so high up you can't hear it but they're talking in this town.

You've always had this dream it seems,
a dream to own the scene,
so you bought the record label & every magazine but the scene is not for sale.

And if I had my hand out it's not to shake your hand,
see I don't want your autograph & I don't want to know your band.

It's pointed at the damage,
the mess you've left behind.

It's pointed at the little guy whose death card you have signed.

And you can't but the scene cause the scene is not for sale & even if you threw your soul in,
the devil wouldn't care.