You moved down to the city with your band not long ago
You were signing to a label and were going to play some shows
Now someone’s back to visit and that someone isn’t you
But an arrogant impostor who doesn’t seem to have a clue
There’s a meanness in your manner, there’s contempt behind your eyes
And you’re speaking in an accent none of us can recognise
Looking down you nose as if you never even cared
You’re behaving like a wanker and what’s up with your hair?

Trade in your haircut for an independent lie

You’re acting like you’ve made it but you obviously haven’t yet
And your conversation’s all about the famous folks you’ve met,
How much you’ve spent on t-shirts, and your trainers and your flat
But the problem with your money is you’ve got to pay it back
And what then are you left with if all this suddenly ends?
A stupid fucking haircut and you’ve sold out all your friends
Behind the wall of affectation you must still have a heart
So I’m breaking out the clippers, help you remember who you are

Trade in your haircut for an independent lie