Goddamn You, You Scenesters!

Ever since I was 'leven, twelve, or thirteen,
back in ol' STL on the Mississipp',
I’ve felt the stranglehold force of the Scenesters.
GODDAMN you, you Scenesters, in vintage t-shirts.
Got to be real «don't care», with precise hair.
Jesus hates you.
Got to look real cocksure. It’s in the brochure.
The Virgin Mary says, «Screw you.»
Got to be real «watch the pinwheel».
But where I’m from we’ve
always had nothin', so we’ve got nothin' to lose.
We say what we want, do what we choose, do what we choose!
GODDAMN you, you Scenesters in black Converse.
Got to be real «fuck-off», in your mom’s spiked cuff.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!
Got to look real tortured. A follow-suit is hard work.
Oh, my Lord!
Got to look real «it's no big deal».
But where I’m from we’ve
always had nothin', so we’ve got nothin' to lose.
We say what we want, do what we choose, do what we choose!
We’ve always had nothin', so we’ve got nothin' to lose.
We say what we want, do what we choose, do what we choose!
Instrumental solo: GODDAMN, YOU!
We’ve always had nothin', so we’ve got nothin' to lose.
We say what we want, do what we choose, in the wrong shoes!
But you can be saved if you’re a Scenester.
You gotta dig deep down and find a feelin'.
You gotta dig deep down and find out how you feel.
I swear to God! I swear to all damnation.
Holy shit!
As my Grandpa used to say, «Jeez and crackers,
Jesus H. Christ on a stick, for Chrissakes,
Jesus wept.»