LYRIC

Piracy is piracy
If you sail the seven seas or surf the net
Record firms, they're making losses
Piracy is piracy
If you sail the seven seas or surf the net
Record firms, they're making losses
But they still spend it like they're making it
It's fifty grand to make a fucking video
And Sardy albums cost a fifth per track
And so your favorite band
They don't make that second album
Dropped by their label 'cause they can't pay it back

It killed them
It killed them
It killed them
It killed them

Well I got some news for you then my brother
This is a business like any other
You got your product, make money off it
You count your losses against your profits
And if you're thinking so? So?
You don't know

Underground, that's where we come from
We don't wear no suits and we are not called The
But chart success, that brings security
You watch these brothers thinking Why not me?
So show me where to sign
And I'll write my name down in my own red blood
Because there comes a time when you think a house might be nice
And selling out don't mean a fuck, you see

It kills me
It kills me
It kills me
It kills me

I can't stand (stand, it)
I can't stand (stand, it)
I can't stand (stand, it)
I can't stand (stand, it) (stand, it)

Well how's about you come down and I'll explain?
Get yourself to London on the train
Then I'll just send you home again

Well how's about you come down and I'll explain?
Get yourself to London on the train
Then I'll just send you home again

Well how's about you come down and I'll explain?
Get yourself to London on the train
Then I'll just send you home again

Well how's about you come down and I'll explain?
Lean a little bit closer, I'll make it plain
You don't stand a fucking chance

I'd like a job in which I'm able
To put shoes on my feet, and food on my table
Those nine-to-fivers, they look pretty stable
But I get my wages from my record label
And if you're thinking so? So? So?

And if you're thinking so? So?
You don't know enough about it
Because this death is slow, (because this death is slow)
Slow, slow, (because this death is slow)
(Because this death is slow)

This thing will work itself out
This thing will work itself out
This thing will work itself out
This thing will work it out
Out, out, out

'Guitarist and Songwriter'
That's what I thought I was
I never had no dreams of being a waiter
But these here Helmet rip-offs
They don't but my lunch
So I will get a real job in the office

And I won't bother to make my music
And I won't bother to sing my songs
And I won't bother to get excited
And I won't bother to get her off

And I won't bother to make my music
And I won't bother to sing my songs
And I won't
And I won't

Sure sure
Sure sure
Sure sure (sure, sure)
Sure (sure)

And I won't bother to make my music
And I won't bother to sing my songs

Sure, yeah sure
Sure

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