indoctrinated into a tribe of the musically unkind where the pretense of a scene can overrule a fragile mind until a boxticking system closes doors to outside i mean youll look pretty cool but a part of you will die and when i say you look cool i mean only to your friends the general opinion is you act like a bell end your arrogance is based on a personal preference and that preference is based on your scenes consensus masses with the live for the weekend mentality caught up with the illusion of individuality care not for your clubnights the fake alternative youre just another group of youths going out and getting pissed i am the guy stood against the wall at the club watching dollies and peacocks dance and get drunk and when the chorus kicks in they all sing along and i watch their mouths fade away while they all get the verses wrong im not saying im any better i fall for the same traps as well but at least i can admit it at least i can admit that im boring as hell1
['indie pop', 'small room', 'weirdcore']