Trend Killer

So, how do you do, yeah
It was nice to meet you but the grass is growing underneath my feet
If I had a dime for every jerk on the road
I'd had a house full of money and a mouth full of gold
Who's his face and what you that band?
Every fucking day I try to understand
I can't be bothered with your piece-of-shit-band
With your piece-of-shit-music and your piece-of-shit-fans

Get this
Your licks and riffs are all laced with shit
But songs full of nothing are just making me sick
Think you're made 'cause your mugs are the cover
But come next month, they'll be covering someone other
What's that bro, can't find a style of your own?
You got the wagon to the left and to the right are the clones
Don't slap my back, quoting me as the man
I want nothing to do with your fucking band

Trend killer

Yeah, here comes Johnny smoking three packs a day
He thinks he's the shit with his band and his babe
He spent his advance on getting full sleeve tattoos
Now the band and babe split and left with holes in his sheos

You burned your bridges when becoming a star
But the cameras stopped flashing at your entourage
You played the guitar, had it strapped to your chin
Got a Adam's apple cut-out and a hairdo to win
But times caught up and now your fame has died
You find yourself alone with no one by your side
Now, whine, whine, whine is all I hear from your face
As the "band of the week" steps up to take your place

Trend killer

So here I sit puffin' on my cigar
Chauffeur driving me around in one of my cars
Management calls but I hang up the phone
I'm busy doing nothing, so just leave me alone
Life is hard at the top of the heap
Got a million dollar habit and my ends to meet
Dude, I'm sorry to I can't be seen with your band
Got whatever to do, I'm sure you understand

Trend killer
Trend killer

Is it me, me, me or is it you, you, you?
Trend killer
What goes up, up, up must come down, down, down
Trend killer
Is it me, me, me or is it you, you, you?
Trend killer
What goes up, up, up must come down, down, down
Trend killer