In Defense Of The Genre Lyrics - Gerard Way

Can't you see, my dear, what you create is greater than great 

It's beautiful and valid 

Go tell the false friend, who doubts your art: 

"Hey, toss my caustic salad!" 

Their noise pollution is a one-night stand 

A closet corporate ballad 

Compose the theme, compose the theme 

That seems to haunt the sultan's dreams 

Yes their truth is a lie, a sickly, sober sky 

Don't you dare lie down your sword and die, oh small fry 

Crime of the century, know what it meant to me 

They'll label us what they can never be 

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Hate me but I am in your heart pulling it apart 

Burning up a black hole 

All those magazines and stifled teens 

Whose trite teething is outdated 

Have miniscule minds of clay in need of chiseling away 

This war's been reinstated 

So spit a wad in the face of their fucking flawless race 

And all they've consecrated 

I won't believe the twisted web they weave 

They can stitch you silent now, or bitch the violence out 

I'm disavowed, I'm proud to shun their know-how 

The wolf begat the lamb, now it's in his hands 

I'm reeling from a feeling that they've banned 

Our last stand goes: Hallelujah, love lost 

Photos 

I've got an empty wallet and a record cover 

The stage, hot and worn like an aging lover 

So I spew a comet of verbal vomit 

Sacreligious, of Christ or Islamic 

It's full of piss and they'll never stop 

Come on and kill the kindly ones 

The ever blinding ones 

We stand and face you now, we will not run 

Just you wait and see where your lemming line leads