We Make Hits Lyrics
I let my friend live upstairs in the spare room for a minute
He needed space and he paid
Never relayed to our letting agent that we did it (That’s illegal)
I sublet, yeah, I admit it, document on tape
The greatest crime this nation’s saving grace devised and then committed
I just wanna make a point
That the culture would’ve died
And post punks’ latest poster boys wouldn’t have got to ride
On the coattails of the dead
And claim that their derision is a vehicle for their vision of subverting it instead
Now subliminal exposure is exploding in your head
‘Cause you know that we were goading you
Yeah, one night up in the attic, listening to Grammatics
Drinking cans and shooting the shit
We reeled off all of our hopes and dreams and made a list
And there was one singular ambition we had
That most musicians of our ilk aren’t willing to admit
And it was to this mantra we would commit
We make hits
Two broke millennial men
And we’d do it again
Every night on the back of the bus
You know it ain’t no fuss
We’re on the same wage
And we ain’t afraid to get paid on stage
Fan fiction caught in the act is a fact
If you get your back backed up at that
You won’t be missed
Now we make hits
(But not hits like Nile Rodgers, just that we ain’t hook dodgers)
We make hits, we make hits
Right, so when we were done kissing
We finally formed this band
And we signed to a subsidiary of Universal Inc.
‘Cause the water keeps on rising
And we know there’s no surprising
Anyone with eyes and ears round here that we’re all gonna sink
And we just wanna have some fun before we’re sunk
And if that’s the attitude you exude, then you know you’re really (punk)
We make hits
Two broke millennial men
And we’d do it again
Every night on the back of the bus
You know it ain’t no fuss
We’re on the same wage
And we ain’t afraid to get paid on stage
Fan fiction caught in the act is a fact
If you get your back backed up at that
You won’t be missed
Now we make hits
(But not hits like Nile Rodgers, just that we ain’t hook dodgers)
We make hits, we make hits
I’m selling out to C-A-P-I-T-A-L-I-S-T
It just so happens that there’s other things I happen to be
So I’m gonna keep flinging shit until enough of it sticks
To break down the wall
And if it’s not a hit, we were being ironic