Breathe kids, the mold is getting old
Itll be gone any day
The hipster empire of tomorrow
Will fall to the common kids of today
With tied wrists were under their control
With fists clenched, were taking on the world
I write down words with cathartic intentions
But they spawn revolutions of minds
Theyre asking for my, my head on a plate
Theyre asking for my, my head on a plate
Im really, really not
That conceited I swear Im not
Im just trying to bring
Music back to music
I define up and coming
They already came up and went
Im loose lipped now shaking back and forth
Problems fixed, Im pouring out my soul
I find the right words to express myself
Instead of fitting round pegs in round holes
What a lovely day for a symphony
Full of honesty and integrity
So take this for what its worth
Originalitys not a curse
Theyre asking for my, my head on a plate
Theyre asking for my, my head on a plate
Im really, really not
That conceited I swear Im not
Im just trying to bring
Music back to music
I define up and coming
They already came up and went
Theyre asking for my, my head on a plate
Theyre asking for my, my head on a plate
Im really, really not
That conceited I swear Im not
Im just trying to bring
Music back to music
I define up and coming
They already came up and went