Lyrics to Punk Rock Cliché
Who made this mess
We once called home?
Sins of the flesh
Are not sinned alone
Invite the "our sin"-ist
For incendiary fun
Where there's smoke there are cigarettes
And blindfolds and guns
The house was on fire
As the victim screamed
While her hands were tied
As he barely breathed
We had it all, that's what they'll say
We did not seize, we stole the day
Now there we are, punk rock clichés
We knew the risks
We played the game
With our own rules
We fanned the flames
Punk rock clichés
Her lies success-
-ful as a lie can be
Those who need to blur the truth
Believe lies set you free
Enter the arsonist
When the fire began
Trust can burn like the Hindenburg
And one gasoline can
We had it all, gave it away
The peruvincent price we have to pay
When we licked clean the silver tray
Why did our home burn down so fast?
Castles of stone are supposed to last
Why can't I get passed through the past?
We knew the odds
We placed the bets
If you play the domme-con
There's no regret
In punk rock roulette
'Cause when I watched
It all crumble away
I realized the walls we built
Were just papier-mâché
How punk rock cliché
We once called home?
Sins of the flesh
Are not sinned alone
Invite the "our sin"-ist
For incendiary fun
Where there's smoke there are cigarettes
And blindfolds and guns
The house was on fire
As the victim screamed
While her hands were tied
As he barely breathed
We had it all, that's what they'll say
We did not seize, we stole the day
Now there we are, punk rock clichés
We knew the risks
We played the game
With our own rules
We fanned the flames
Punk rock clichés
Her lies success-
-ful as a lie can be
Those who need to blur the truth
Believe lies set you free
Enter the arsonist
When the fire began
Trust can burn like the Hindenburg
And one gasoline can
We had it all, gave it away
The peruvincent price we have to pay
When we licked clean the silver tray
Why did our home burn down so fast?
Castles of stone are supposed to last
Why can't I get passed through the past?
We knew the odds
We placed the bets
If you play the domme-con
There's no regret
In punk rock roulette
'Cause when I watched
It all crumble away
I realized the walls we built
Were just papier-mâché
How punk rock cliché