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Once upon a time in the eighties, metal bands Worked hard to turn out albums that were good Nowadays, most aren't worth a damn But it's fine, no one cares, it's understood Forty minutes of you phoning it in While the label claims a true return to form! But you didn't try, and you won't again Doesn't matter, it'll sell like a storm Hey We can't blame you, take the paycheck And milk your fame for all that it's worth We're Just mad we have to put in effort We hope to get where you are so we don't have to work Elder statesmen of metal, lying in repose Where is the speed, where are the riffs? Doesn't say in your contract that you can't coast On prior success from when you gave a shit Tap a little more self-respect into the ashtray As you fall asleep at the fretboard No motivation, you get paid anyway You punched out as soon as you hit record Songtexte Oh Who cares, right? Who needs a legacy? We envy your position in life And Can't wait until we're well-established And nothing can dislodge us from those dizzying heights You once Were gods of speed and death Your riffs Would hammer and aggress Setlists Full of song after song But then Something went wrong You lost Your zeal for the job But still Make junk for the mob Can't wait Till we've earned those rights To not Have to try sounds nice Would you help us out and tell us how it's done? Just tell us, how did you become so blessed? Getting rich for horseshit sure sounds fun So when can we stop doing our best? Say What is the magic number? Is five solid albums enough? To Relax and take it easy And start churning out some halfhearted fluff Like you? Aus Songtexte Mania