3 chords, blood, sweat no rewardsAnother minute goes down the drainNobody seems to care anymoreOr really listen to what we’re sayingJudge books by looks and fall for a cheap imitationSee us we must abide by our labeled limitationsThey missed the X’d fists, jump kicks in nikeThere ain’t even a pig pile pic or hcI guess in reality the biggest joke’s on meHey you, at the back of the longest lineJust what did you have in mind?