Handbook For The Sellout

You found a way, to draw a line,

between the world and you.

Faking your identity its true. Did

you think the word "alternative"

was only meant for the likes of

you? Do you think that they're too

cool now? Being popular is lame.

You're the one who made them popular,

all their songs are still the same.



You found them first, it made you

stand apart, you know? But then

everyone jumped on the same

bandwagon, making you and

average Joe. A lemming for the

mediocre, you were just a plain

old joker, status quo. Blame it on

the band now. If you prick them

do they bleed? What's the point in

playing what they want, if you

won't let them succeed?



Do you remember where we all

came from? Do you remember

what it's all about? When you

made a point to be objective,

before you started writing

Handbook for the Sellout?



You sunk your worth in being

different, just to be like your own

kind. You traded in objectiveness,

for the underground you follow

blind.



Do you remember where we all

came from? Do you remember

what it's all about? When you

made a point to be objective,

before you started writing

Handbook for the Sellout?