Trends Lyrics

I'm not concerned that rock is dead.
Dull monotones and words that don't make any f*cking sense.
I won't f*ck the real world when it's dead.
New trends, new brands, dreamed by a swarm of talking heads. There's a slow in the seas, but a growth in disease.
Heavy hands drown the nerves from much pressure beneath.
Dead things will win.

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