Beach Craft Bonanza - Scene Rant

Put yourself on all your friends' top-ten lists
Window dressing gets you more gigs
Buying your clicks and hiding your dicks
"Bro, check my band out, it's sick"
Postured painted tainted
What are you doing to help?

"Support the scene"
And what that really means is "All eyes on me"
Clutching your prize, your masculine pride
Hollowing on the inside
Scene rant dead end no more
How do we even the score?

Propped on a pedestal, base unsteady
Flaccid, forgettable, radio-ready
A place at your table, R-S-V-P
Don't expect a letter from me

Tuned up torn up fed up
Still sifting through the debris

I give up, I'm getting out
There's no room for people like me
Tired of wearing my heart on my sleeve
The door hits your ass when you leave
I give up, I'm getting out
There's no room, no room for people like me

Propped on a pedestal, base unsteady
Rancid, regrettable, radio-ready
A place at your table, R-S-V-P
The door hits your ass when you leave
Don't expect a letter from me

I give up, I'm getting out
There's no hope
The door hits your ass when you leave

Written by:
Chris Baltrus, Vincent Carriero

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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