[Verse 1: Max Bemis]
This is the tale of a bearded sloth
Who debases himself so they can get their rocks off
Recruits five skinny, better-looking men
To play guitar parts he'll never play again
So it's lash after lash like a budget Christ
From every blog or zine, took the chance to look twice
I'm not saying that this dude is me
Or speaking brutally of myself to gain traction

[Verse 2: Max Bemis]
Action, there goes the camera, click
American indie-rock is a game of pricks
They're the gods of what was independent rock
And now is vaguely-refined hogwash, that I mock
Jacket patched up with a Wesleyan degree
Legs bound, tongue out, grinning as they piss on me
But I don't care, it's what I'm known for
I'll take it gleefully

[Chorus: Max Bemis and Los Campesinos!]
Yeah, I'm wrong, and you're right
And that's my thesis here tonight
With my gut, and my bulge
I'll make the whole world scream, the whole room bleed
I'll lose, for your gain
If it'll spruce up my refrain
It's what they want
The band plays while the ship goes down
The ship goes down, the ship goes down
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