If I can't feel (on a given day) the way I wanted to,
The temptation hits,
My grip it could slip,
I could give it up.
But if I can't feel (on a given day) the way I wanted to,
I won't cheapen myself,
I won't be patronized by lethargy.
And it would be nice to answer questions with a capsule
But I don't deem myself that simple minded.
And it would be nice to untie knots with single gestures
But I keep on drawing blood.
And it would be nice to think oblivion was a challenge instead of an excuse.
You built yourself a socio-cultural trap,
Launched an attack on your subconscious ruby ridge.
If you get what you want you can't play Hamlet to the balcony.
The ultimate expression of consumerism - the wholesale commodification of sensation.
The ultimate rejection of asceticism - the doors of perception kicked in.
The ultimate acceptance of conservatism - a fierce passion subsumed and corrupted.
The ultimate bisection of ethicalism - as you imbibe the denial of choice.
If I can see straight I can't lie.
Let's put an end to this falsehood,
To the conception that this is different.
Misunderstood and misconstrued alternative only in vocabulary.
You leave the office on a friday,
Swap one glazed expression for another
For 48 hours in elaborate gilded costumes at the masquerade warehouse.
The Kids Are Going To Love It Video (MV)
Performed By: Million Dead
Written by: BENJAMIN RUSSELL ERRING DAWSON, CAMERON DAVID DEAN, FRANCIS EDWARD TURNER, JULIA RUZICKA
Million Dead - The Kids Are Going To Love It Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
If I can't feel (on a given day) the way I wanted to,
The temptation hits,
My grip it could slip,
I could give it up.
But if I can't feel (on a given day) the way I wanted to,
I won't cheapen myself,
I won't be patronized by lethargy.
And it would be nice to answer questions with a capsule
But I don't deem myself that simple minded.
And it would be nice to untie knots with single gestures
But I keep on drawing blood.
And it would be nice to think oblivion was a challenge instead of an excuse.
You built yourself a socio-cultural trap,
Launched an attack on your subconscious ruby ridge.
If you get what you want you can't play Hamlet to the balcony.
The ultimate expression of consumerism - the wholesale commodification of sensation.
The ultimate rejection of asceticism - the doors of perception kicked in.
The ultimate acceptance of conservatism - a fierce passion subsumed and corrupted.
The ultimate bisection of ethicalism - as you imbibe the denial of choice.
If I can see straight I can't lie.
Let's put an end to this falsehood,
To the conception that this is different.
Misunderstood and misconstrued alternative only in vocabulary.
You leave the office on a friday,
Swap one glazed expression for another
For 48 hours in elaborate gilded costumes at the masquerade warehouse.
The temptation hits,
My grip it could slip,
I could give it up.
But if I can't feel (on a given day) the way I wanted to,
I won't cheapen myself,
I won't be patronized by lethargy.
And it would be nice to answer questions with a capsule
But I don't deem myself that simple minded.
And it would be nice to untie knots with single gestures
But I keep on drawing blood.
And it would be nice to think oblivion was a challenge instead of an excuse.
You built yourself a socio-cultural trap,
Launched an attack on your subconscious ruby ridge.
If you get what you want you can't play Hamlet to the balcony.
The ultimate expression of consumerism - the wholesale commodification of sensation.
The ultimate rejection of asceticism - the doors of perception kicked in.
The ultimate acceptance of conservatism - a fierce passion subsumed and corrupted.
The ultimate bisection of ethicalism - as you imbibe the denial of choice.
If I can see straight I can't lie.
Let's put an end to this falsehood,
To the conception that this is different.
Misunderstood and misconstrued alternative only in vocabulary.
You leave the office on a friday,
Swap one glazed expression for another
For 48 hours in elaborate gilded costumes at the masquerade warehouse.
Writer: BENJAMIN RUSSELL ERRING DAWSON, CAMERON DAVID DEAN, FRANCIS EDWARD TURNER, JULIA RUZICKA
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group