My generationīs for sale,
Beats a steady job.
How much have you got?
My generation donīt trust no one,
Its hard to blame,
Not even ourselves.
The thing thatīs real for us is: fortune and fame,
All the rest seems like work.
Its just like Diamonds
In shit.
Iīm high class Iīm a whore,
Actually both,
Basically Iīm a pro,
Weīve all got our own style
(of baggage),
Why hump it yourself,
Youīve made me an offer that I can refuse,
(course either way I get screwed)
Counter proposal:
I go home & Jerk off.
Itīs truly a lie. Iīm counterfeit myself,
Itīs truly a lie. Iīm counterfeit myself,
You donīt own, you donīt own, you donīt own,
You donīt own what none can buy,
You donīt own, neither do I.
High and mighty you say selling out is a sham,
Is that the name of your book?
Push a silver spoon in your ass,
No more holding us down,
(dog. down mutt. Nice mutt)
Youīre insulted, You canīt be bought or sold.
Translation: offer too low.
You donīt know what youīre worth,
(It isnīt much.)
My piano is for sale.
How many times must I sell myself before my pieces are gone?
Iīm one of a kind,
Iīm designer.
Never again will I repeat myself,
Enough is never enough,
Never again will I repeat myself.
It used to be the plan was: screwing the man
Now its have sex with a man,
(After he buys you ".com" for sale at a low, low price)
Itīs truly a lie, Iīm counterfeit myself,
Itīs truly a lie, Iīm counterfeit myself,
You donīt own, you donīt own, you donīt own me,
You donīt own what none can buy,
You donīt own
Neither do I
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