Album: The Big Dirty (2007)

Imitation Is The Sincerest Form Of Battery

Don't try to resist, you're coming with us.
provisions are made, accommodations are met.
your words are recoded in the bleak genetics of the mob.
praise apocrypha-omitted offense,
to relieve us of guilt but not of our sin
we've sacrificed discourse at the feet of your clever turn-of-phrase.
now you owe it to us, we demand to be taken aback,
to be showed the revival of hope, for which your words are responsible.

Oh, it's the end of the line,
I'm cornered by a precedent; the sneering public eye
My job here is done.
My job here is done (you're fucking welcome).

retract the accolade, the candid acclaim
inspiration is cutting its loss
regurgitate headlines or a theory on modern art
You've been fooled again, the red herring's a joke.

I've tried so hard to tell you that I tapped the well dry,
but there's no word
stay wistful and young
the affected are banking on oblivion in the drone of embittered hope,
and we're sold by the way they wrote it.

Oh, it's the end of the line,
I'm cornered by a precedent; the sneering public eye
My job here is done.
My job here is done

it is better to destroy than to create what is meaningless,
so the picture will not be finished.