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Fuck your ideas of what's hardcore, fuck your safe prepackaged shit. Fuck your best selling, queer-bashing artists. Fuck this as a commodity. You say you own it when you say what is hardcore, or why we're hardcore. Marketing a movement, for you it's just 'moving units.' Fifteen dollar*, long-sleeve T-shirts, glossy full-page advertisements, promotional 'one-sheets' of what's coming soon, all toilet paper for me and my crew.
Lyrics submitted by Blaupunked