Fansong - Dethklok

You people out there give us something

More than just record sales

You give us something to hate

And we hate you

You brainless mutants

Hate

You hunched and blinded mutants

Living in chat rooms

You masturbate on the sheets

Your mothers clean for you

You have lined my pockets

Overflowed with gold

You’re living with your parents

And you’re 35 years old

You’re a bunch of banks

That I’d like to rob

You’re my on-line cash transaction

You’re my future stocks

Transfer you like money

To a Swiss account

Spend you on an impulse

Buy and zero you all out

Hate

You sad putrid losers

Complaining on the couch

Think you’re fucking better than us?

You can’t leave your house

Deluded little maggots

Fold your arms and frown

Go to work and make me money

Before I put you down

Hate

I would like to get some sleep

But you keep buying all our things

My overhead is way too deep

For us to not make all these things

It’s way too cynical, you see?

Hating what’s supporting me

I am not you, I thank the gods

And if I were, I’d die like dogs

Die

You’re a credit card

That I will defile

Every time I max you out

I get a thousand miles

You’re a brand new car

That I do not need

Wrap you round a telephone pole

Shrug it off and leave

(Just follow me

Down the elevator

Through the gates

Down the stairs

Just keep on walking

Through the hallway

Now open the door)