This band, they play so bad There´s nothing like Minor Threat Watch me moshing X up my fists, broccoli I hate any sigh of melody More, more, as I´m growing There was a time we were boozing up at punk shows Now my attitude is more worth Than old friends and four-chord melodies This band, they look so good I think they could, would, should Rock as hell, yeah Hairlines and tragedies There´s nothing else that defines me More, more, maybe hardcore fashion? There was a time I´ve been posing being straight edge Now watch my evolution Solution-disilusion-death Nothing to support The decline of our ideals The more you try, the less it´s real No credit to our salvation That day we´ll remain one with ourselves Dead scene, falling apart Shit-talking doesn´t strenghten the bound There comes the day We will realize that we´ve wasted All the good times with struggles and our hatred Comparation of different parts of the same community It´s not your phrases You may not having style and The real importance past your means Now called disturbance Will remain now deep inside your heart