The Unscene — Haster

They put you in a cage,
Incorporate.
Now the music maker takes,
A penny wage.
Passive instability:
When work is free,
Artists turn to worker bees,
Slapped away by their queen.

She’ll seal the deal on her knees,
This contract states your loyalty,
Her sex appeal makes us week…
Sign on the line!

Hey you — what you gonna do?
When she’s down on her knees,
And she’s ready to please you?
Stay true — do what you gotta do:
Throw her out on the street.

Doctor resuscitate,
We lost the patient.
Lack of monetary gain,
The player’s played now.
Lost amongst the other graves,
And the label,
Say they need their payment, wait?
When does pay come to me?

She’ll seal the deal on her knees.
Then suck you dry until you leave,
Then once you leave you’re nothing:
You signed the line!

Hey you — what you gonna do?
When she’s down on her knees and she’s ready to please you?
Stay true — do what you gotta do:
Throw her out on the street.
I’ll tell you, Hey you — what you gonna do?
When she’s down on her knees and she’s ready to please you?
Stay true — do what you gotta do:
Throw her out on the street.

Tell me, what’s the price of the entry?
If it’s not free,
I won’t be seen.
Empty,
Audience seats,
Pay-to-play — no green.
There’s no scene,
Unless the dope fiends,
Proceed,
To take that E and hit that EDM show.
West Coast who the fuck do we play for?
Let’s go, we’ll hit that road that we crave for.
It’s paid for,
By the fucking label!

Stay away from Southern California!
Stay away from the City of Angels!
Stay away from Southern California!
Stay away from the City of Angels!