CO.IN. - To the Critic | Текст песни

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• CO.IN.
• To the Critic

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Call it ORIGINAL!

There are countless morons
in an infinite world,
a billion little opinions
on what someone else has done.
Reviews, comments and labels,
feature articles and lists...
I should drug you, nail you to the table,
fuck you and break your wrists,
so you will never write again,
so you will never speak again.

You call it nu-metal and I call you mental.
Call it original and I'll say you're ignorant.
Try to classify and be judgemental.
Give it a name and we'll laugh in your face again.

There are countless things you can do instead of criticizing art,
like washing dishes or pumping gas or even sleeping on a bench in the park.
I've had enough of your stories and fables. Nothing about you will be missed
when I fucking nail you to the table,
kill you and then break your wrists,
so you will never write again,
so you will never speak again.

You call it nu-metal and I call you mental.
Call it original and I'll say you're ignorant.
Try to classify and be judgemental.
Give it a name and we'll laugh in your face again.
Despise the critic!