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33/45 Lyrics

They say we'll never get jobs lookin' this way
We laugh
A job ain't nothin but work and we're not for sale, anyway
Letters scrawled on collar bones remind that while they're dead we're still alive
While complacency commands them, we're driven by this rage that guides
Measuring success in happiness
They can keep their endless quest for emptiness
We place more value in the wax that's been pressed
They can judge, but the real judgment is left to the kids of dissidence

Brought together by the spin of a record while the world spins out of control
A tribe arises out of hollow high rises, screaming above the din of advertisments:
It's not for us
It's not for us
It's not
They say that we're the kids who will never fit in
We laugh
... here's hoping!

Measuring success in happiness
They can keep their endless quest for emptiness
We gain our values in the wax that's been pressed
They can judge, but the real judgment is left to the kids of dissidence...
... the kids who will never sell out and never buy in
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