False Metal (scorched Earth Version) - Emperor x Lyrics
By: Admin | Artist: E emperor x | Published: 2024-20-09T16:29:10:00+07:00Lirikku.ID - False Metal (scorched Earth Version) - Emperor x Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "False Metal (scorched Earth Version) - Emperor x Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton E emperor x. Dengan chord yang disajikan, pemula atau penggemar musik dapat dengan mudah memainkan lagu ini dengan gitar mereka sendiri. Kami menyajikan chord dengan akurasi tinggi sehingga pemain dapat mengikuti alunan musiknya dengan baik. Juga, kami akan memberikan informasi tambahan mengenai lirik lagu dan mungkin beberapa tips untuk menyempurnakan permainan gitar. Konten ini cocok untuk penggemar musik yang ingin belajar lagu baru atau bagi mereka yang ingin menikmati kesenangan bermain musik dengan gitar. Silahkan disimak False Metal (scorched Earth Version) - Emperor x Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.
[intro]
i’m writin’ songs about boxing
but i’m better at avoiding a fight
i never gave or received a punch
i’m singin’ songs about freedom
on the cheapest pa i could find
made in some sweatshop
with no way out and no breaks for lunch
there’s no need to give myself a bl**dy eye
i don’t want my family exposed
great job! sweatshops of america
with your fitness apps and your co2
and malarial outbreaks in malibu
and my kid in the camps
and a guard with a gun staring past her
and he’s listening to false metal
[verse 1]
recording songs about rebellion
in an attic that i rent from a friend
in a lowkey utopian ethnostate
wе’re both a bit uneasy
but it’s bettеr for us both if we wait
or do nothing
there’s no parallel parking in h*ll
there’s no need to give ourselves a hernia
the real heavy lifting’s for the young
it’s alright! we’ve done enough, let’s go to sleep
yeah, we’ve won the right to get import booze
and cartel cocaine and organic shoes
and a guarantee of immunity from disasters
while we’re listening to false metal
[verse 2]
i see the sunlight in the window
and a pile of my passed*out friends
under the ruins of an upturned couch
i went outside and started walking
to the gas station next to the house
’cause there’s no more time
and the power’s out!
the fake priest sold napalm to the bourgeoisie
while the fake proletariat got stoned
on expensive weed he bought with face id
and if nothing’s real, then we get to choose
it’s the end of time on a carnival cruise
or a warehouse job and a blunt force bruise
or a nuclear war, or a great refusal
to call us dumb, you can tell us to leave
but a coward’s favorite word’s naïve
it’s endless grief
or a face tattoo of an oreo
and false metal
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