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You've got your leathers, your hair's spiked up and dyed black You make sure everyone sees you at punk shows You think you're scene, you say your nickname is "Punk Rock" But you're a poser, boy, and everybody knows You can't claim to support indie punk rock bands When you download all your music off the net So would you please stop claiming Montreal elite You're an embarrassment to our entire scene You're booking shows, and you're keeping all the money But you'll remind us of the favour that you've done You're selling comps, but the proceeds line your pockets And everyone knows that your Punk Fest was a joke So can you tell me which mentalities you fight? Which charities have you donated to? When your best friend is a racist homophobe How can you even pretend to be punk rock? You say you're progressive, say you're working for the cause You say you're in it for the music and the bands You spout politics, say you're against aggression But your arguments all turn to confrontation So can't you leave us all alone and just go home Go work a 9 to 5 job till you die We've had it up to here with your big shot ideas That never serve anyone other than yourself Aus Songtexte Mania