Текст песни: A Wilhelm Scream - The Rip
Fuck genius. What`s an artist?
Dead words devoid of meaning. Let`s drop them.
I know where they can go, but your neck is blocking the hole.
Let`s start from zero.
Now, listen close.
This is a rip: "The scream that ignites the world?"
We`re slaves to radios. We`re not worth shit to talk to.
This is the pen that won`t cauterize the wound.
Whose plan to follow?
It feels like your own. It`s an insult. You`ve fallen for it.
It feels like your own. It`s your anthem, as jaded as its source.
The anemic. The pale, the sullen.
An albumнs evidence. I believed that shit.
Here, stuck in radios. No one`s worth shit to talk to.
These were my heroes.
Now they`re all jokes.
This is a rip. `The scream that ignites the world?"
We`re slaves to radios. We`re not worth shit to talk to.
This is the pen that won`t cauterize the wound. Whose plan to follow?
It feels like your own. Itнs an insult. You`ve fallen for it.
It feels like your own. It`s your anthem, as jaded as its source.
The ceiling is waiting.
And you follow like it mattered if you did.
And it dropped you on your head cuz you took yourself for granted.
Heartless and headstrong. Jump right over the bodies.
Life`s a race. It`s an obstacle course.
Hide, but you`ll never have a choice when you go.
They would have noticed you if they had known, but you`re fucked.
They`ll only love you when you`re gone,
or barely hanging on to all your organs and dignity while you`re
rotting in hospitals.
Don`t believe it?
It`s not your fault. You`re just worthless. You`re one in a million.
Where нs god?
The ornament, the holiday song whored out on reading materials
in latrines and porta-johns?
Don`t believe this.
You`re not worthless.
It`s us against millions and we can`t take them all.
But we can take them on.
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Fuck genius. What`s an artist?
Dead words devoid of meaning. Let`s drop them.
I know where they can go, but your neck is blocking the hole.
Let`s start from zero.
Now, listen close.
This is a rip: "The scream that ignites the world?"
We`re slaves to radios. We`re not worth shit to talk to.
This is the pen that won`t cauterize the wound.
Whose plan to follow?
It feels like your own. It`s an insult. You`ve fallen for it.
It feels like your own. It`s your anthem, as jaded as its source.
The anemic. The pale, the sullen.
An albumнs evidence. I believed that shit.
Here, stuck in radios. No one`s worth shit to talk to.
These were my heroes.
Now they`re all jokes.
This is a rip. `The scream that ignites the world?"
We`re slaves to radios. We`re not worth shit to talk to.
This is the pen that won`t cauterize the wound. Whose plan to follow?
It feels like your own. Itнs an insult. You`ve fallen for it.
It feels like your own. It`s your anthem, as jaded as its source.
The ceiling is waiting.
And you follow like it mattered if you did.
And it dropped you on your head cuz you took yourself for granted.
Heartless and headstrong. Jump right over the bodies.
Life`s a race. It`s an obstacle course.
Hide, but you`ll never have a choice when you go.
They would have noticed you if they had known, but you`re fucked.
They`ll only love you when you`re gone,
or barely hanging on to all your organs and dignity while you`re
rotting in hospitals.
Don`t believe it?
It`s not your fault. You`re just worthless. You`re one in a million.
Where нs god?
The ornament, the holiday song whored out on reading materials
in latrines and porta-johns?
Don`t believe this.
You`re not worthless.
It`s us against millions and we can`t take them all.
But we can take them on.
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A Picture Of The World
Anchor End
Beautiful Girl Disease
Better Health Through Screaming In Tune
Brand New Me, Same Shitty You
Cancer Dream
Catharsis For Dummies
Class Of `97
Congratulations
Dreaming Of Throwing Up
Famous Friends And Fashion Drunks
God Loves A Liar
Halcyon Days
Hike
In Vino Veritas II
It Will Happen To You
Killing It
Kursk
Less Bright Eyes, More Deicide
Me Vs. Morrissey In The Pretentious Contest
Mercy Day For Mr. Vengeance
Month Of Sundays
Mute Print
Retiring
September 10th
Speed Of Dark
Stab Stab Stab
The Big Fall
The Kids Can Eat A Bag Of Dicks
The King Is Dead
The Pool
The Rip
The Soft Sell
When I Was Alive: Walden III
William Blake Overdrive
You Kiss Their Ass And They`ll Shit On You
You Make Me Feel Like I Need A Psychiatric Evaluat