1. |
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Don’t worry ma I’m Hollywood
Fucking Hollywood
It’s a pleasure to meet me
I’m the product of good intentions
With bad distribution
And the grace of a young drunk man
Trying to grope his way from the back of a burning Sudan
I spent 20 years
Trying to accomplish
What you would destroy
In 15 min by adverting your eyes
I was never fond
Of impressions
Now I find myself
Plagiarist
This is the final act
Of a desperate man’s
Career suicide
My words are cheap
Entertainment
And my actions follow suite
This will never feel the same as it did
Back when we were kids
I hold this sinking ship
This is the place where I learned everything I love is a lie
This is the only place that I feel alive
This is hell
But we’re still dancing
I made a vow
I’d walk away from this
I’d turn my back
Dead man to dead scene
One day I will
Grow up and grow old
But these words still remain
And some things will never change
In the end we’re still screaming
Still swinging at our ghosts
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2. |
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Hey, Bobby, this scene is played out
and I think I’m bout to pop
and there ain’t enough drugs in this whole town to put me down
Hey girl let that camera snap
and put that arch in your back
I’ve been thinking that we should stop thinking and follow your legs back home
my body is a Trojan horse
don’t fall asleep
I never drank with a man who made it to heaven
and I never fuck girls who believe in hell
If they found you they would steal you
So I keep you under my tongue
Pretty little coated in pink
Can you protect me from what I want?
I’m completely incapable of perceiving the patterns of my self-destruction
Repeating repeating repeating repeating
My conversations with ghosts are 1 900 guaranteed
To result in a game of Russian roulette to figure out who's faking it
ladies and gentalman please be seated hold your applause hold your applause
I am here to dispel allegations and to ease your first world sins
I am your rich white suburban middle class punk rock Jesus Christ
You may now act surprised if you like we all know its better this way
This is Hollywood
And all of my ex lovers are
Crushed up sleeping pills
Set yourself on fire
And thank god for the aftermath
Eyes bat in smoke signals
Haven’t blinked in days
I’ve been analyzing my dreams
Haven’t missed a thing
I’m a fucking mess
And quite overstimulated
I’m fucking famous bitch
Nothing in this city ever changes
Every dead artist is a poor man’s vindication
|
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3. |
Fuck Me, Misquoted
03:10
|
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|
When I look back
Over bridges
Built of hatred
I start to see the subtle cracks
Not to diminish
The power and truth
In anger
But to differentiate between the flame
And my vocation as an arsonist covered in gasoline
I’ve only proved that I know how to say
Fuck you in a thousand ways
And that ain’t much
But it’s all I’ve got
I was hoping there’d be more than this
I was hoping I was more than this
And I know we’re both guilty
Of holding our breath while drowning the other
This is not an apology
I am not trying to make amends
I am just trying to find the strength
To admit that I was wrong
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4. |
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|
This is where we belong
I know your weak but we’ll carry on
I can just watch this die
I was never good at letting go
This is where we belong
Brother I now you’re weak but we’ll carry on
I can’t just watch us die
I was never good at letting go
I was never good at saying goodbye
I hope our fists scar the sun
As a testament to our disappointment
And expectations of loss
In a world we’ll never call a home
If there’s a reason why we believe
Let me be a contradiction
If there is truth in the words that we say
Let this be my self-preservation
I’m dragging my friends down with me
Cause I don’t want to be alone
If there’s a line at the gallows
Tell them we’ve hung our heads in shame for years
If they can’t find the bodies then it must be true
Heaven’s run out of room for martyrs
I’m at the end of my rope
At the edge of this stage
I am not afraid
This is my fucking leap of faith
Punk rock couldn’t save me
But I bet 20 stories will
The only good artist is a dead one
Ain’t that the fucking truth?
I’ve made a sport of second guessing myself
To the point I don’t leave home
That sinking feeling, that I’m failing
The ones that I love
My only regret is that I never
Figured out what I was trying to say
My friends when we meet again and everything’s changed
Let’s talk about the old days like we never looked back
My friends when we meet again and everything’s changed
Let’s talk about the old days like we never ran back home
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5. |
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|
As I search through the memories
Trying to figure out where it all went wrong
I remember the names of my friends
But their faces are all a blur
My brothers lay dead around me
At least that’s what I choose to see
In truth, there was no war
Just a young boy’s fantasies
We were gonna change the world
Or at least stand and fight
But we were just talking
Baling our fists at an empty sky
I remember when we used to sing these words
How it made it all worthwhile
And we still fought
We fought with passion
I believe I’ll look back on these days
And wish that I had died on that stage
And to whoever the fuck is listening
I wasn’t ready
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Music is the Enemy Albuquerque, New Mexico
Five piece hardcore punk band. HQ ABQ, NM. Est 2008. We are gonna keep doing this till we can't.
"Too fast for metal. Too heavy for punk. Pretty perfect in my opinion." - Random Hipster
"Sounds like shark week on animal planet!" - Young family member who's not young anymore.
... more
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