F​*​ck You!

by Lose The Life



Produced by Ulf "Kirurgen" Blomberg at HoboRec in april 2011


released April 17, 2011

Thanks to Kirurgen for surgical endeavors, TorVSE for equipment provisions and Muminmamman for accomodations. No thanks to Falafelgubben for leaving out the french fries!



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Track Name: Wake-up Call
Forcefed unity and hardcore
shoved down our throats
Written by a bunch of fucking jocks
Bullshit morality
is what they promote
Values reflecting society at large
will never pose a threat
Individualistic status quo
tear it down without regret

Empty words teach us nothing
Idle minds corrupted
with a single-serving truth

Wake up from your hardcore ruse
Track Name: Pat On The Back
I fucking hate to pat you on the back
To kiss your ass rather than to give you feedback
Instead of discussing and giving critique
We embrace each other's blatant bullshit
Being friends doesn't mean to always agree
Afraid of being different breeds conformity

Conformity is bullshit!
Track Name: Unity Stomper
I'm sick of all these guys, just here to measure cocks
And I don't want no unity with drug abusing jocks
Hardcore's more than music not a scene like any other
You're just a consumer and you'll never be my brother

Scene unity? A fucking joke!
The X on your hand don't make your actions ok
No room for critique, but still we scream and shout
If we all must get along, then count me the fuck out

A big family?! Not a fucking chance
I only feel disgust for this laissez faire romance!
Track Name: No Room For Elites
You think your word is law - Fuck you fuck you
You'll draw the shortest straw - Fuck you fuck you
You think you control the course - Fuck you fuck you
We'll knock you off your high horse - Fuck you fuck you

No room for elites
(You're) no better no worse
No room for elites
Hierarchy's a fucking curse

Who is kept guessing
Who calls the shots
Who is kept down as the intellectual have nots
Why should we listend to a single fucking word you say
Track Name: Busted ( The Commuter Mosh)
I'll free ride the tram it's too fucking expensive
But the ticket controls have become so extensive
A few more stops, and i'll be home free
Then those facists decide to bust me
You are a fascist and collegues too
Working in groups so no one will shank you
Making a living busting the poor
I'll break through you to get to the door

Your grandpa was a guard in a nazi camp
Now your here to check my ticket stamp
Your dad was a blackleg, you fucking jerk
You carry their tradition in your line of work

Knivad i Frölunda, lämnad att dö
Sånna som du ska ha vagnslaster med spö
Jävla låtsas-snut!
Track Name: What Do You Want
Buy the demo, buy the shirt
Dance your ass off till it hurts
An alternative market, devoid of thought
That was never, what I sought

What do you want?
Why, how, when?
Think, think, think!
It's your only weapon

Alternative values, a place to grow
Social defiance in the shape of a show
Hardcore could be worth much more
Than the fee paid at the door

What do you want?
Why, how, when?
Think, think, think!
Your brain is a weapon

What the fuck do you really want?
Track Name: Addict
Hear you say this
Hear you say that
I hear the values of a spoiled brat
Who found comfort in a set of rules
and enjoy telling other people what to do

Straight Edge is a framework of ideas
It's a tool on the path to being free
Reflection, renewal and rethinking is a must
If you think you're done, I know you're getting lost

You're still an addict if you look inside
Beneath a hardend crust weakness recide
Sugar, TV, caffein or video games
Addiction holds you captive, all the same
Track Name: Seasons In The Scene
Mosh warriors gone flannel jocks
Show tough guys now wussy fucks
Turning your coats over and over again
If it was just clothes I would'nt bother
But opinions and morals are thrown out
Most of you douche bags dropped the fuck out
Used to be vegan, used to be edge
Now drug rehab is what's next

Stay fucking true

Don't jock the edge (and) don't jock the 'core
Coat turning is such a fucking bore
Trends in this scene is just another poison
Stop hammering nails in its coffin