Admit It

Admit it! Despite your pseudo-bohemian appearance And vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs You know nothing about art or sex That you couldn’t read in any trendy New York underground fashion magazine Prototypical non-conformist You are a vacuous soldier of the thrift store Gestapo You adhere to a set of standards and tastes That appear to be determined by an unseen panel of hipster judges (bullshit) Giving a thumbs up or thumbs down to incoming and outgoing trends and styles of music and art Go analog baby, you’re so post-modern You’re diving face forward into a antiquated past It’s disgusting, it's offensive, don’t stick your nose up at me Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself? Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself? Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends Pontificating to each other Forever competing for that one moment of self-aggrandizing glory In which you hog the intellectual spotlight Holding dominion over the entire shallow pointless conversation Oh, we’re not worthy When you walk by a group of quote-unquote normal people You chuckle to yourself patting yourself on the back as you scoff It's the same superiority complex Shared by the high school jocks who made your life a living hell And makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma You spend every moment of your waking life bitching about Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself? Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah And I say yeah, what do you have to say for yourself? Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah Cause I’m proud of my life and the things that I have done Proud of myself and the loner I’ve become You’re free to whine, it will not get you far I do just fine, my car and my guitar Proud of my life and the things that I have done Proud of myself and the loner I’ve become You’re free to whine, it will not get you far I do just fine, my car and my guitar, yeah Well let me tell you this, I am shamelessly self-involved I spend hours in front of the mirror, making my hair elegantly disheveled I worry about how this album will sell Because I believe it will determine the amount of sex I will have in the future I self medicate with drugs and alcohol to treat my extreme social anxiety You are a faker (admit it) You are a fraud (admit it) Yeah, you’re living a lie (hey) living a lie (hey) you’re life is living a lie You don’t impress me (admit it) You don’t intimidate me (admit it) Why don’t you bow down, get on the ground, walk this fucking plank (yeah!) Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah And I say yeah (what do you..) Proud of my life and the things that I have done Proud of myself and the loner I’ve become You’re free to whine, it will not get you far I do just fine, my car and my.. Guitar, guitar go! I drift, drift, drift, drift, drift, yeah I drift, drift, drift, drift, drift, yeah oh And I am done with this I wanna taste the breeze of every great city My car and my guitar My car and my guitar So you'll come to be, made of these urges unfulfilled Oh no, no, no, no, no When I'm dead I'll rest When I'm dead I'll rest, lay still When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest