Traitors to the Scene

You can call us traitors to the scene
While you stand in the first row, yet
Seven strings, Techno-Beats, Singing clean
The worst nightmare of true metalheads

The pure sale of your soul
You can show us your scorn
But first show us your bills
Betrayal of the scene-rules
You can dislike us as long
As you don't admit

We don't deny our roots
We outgrew them
We do not copy trends
We create it
We stand here cause we wanted it that way
No one's forcing you to stay
Obey the words we say
And pay our rent until decay

You can call us traitors to the scene
While you stand in the first row, yet
Seven strings, Techno-Beats, Singing clean
The worst nightmare of true metalheads

Dance to the Sound of Commerce
And be sure it can't get worse
Cause we honestly confess
That we want to reach the mass
We don't need any fans
Cause our Haters fill the ranks
Watching us celebrate
Every fucking note we play

We are beyond you
We get up - you fall
See how your scapegoat
Is overtaking all

This is a fucking New Wave of Mainstream
A middlefinger to this spineless scene!

Dance to the Sound of Commerce
And be sure it can't get worse
Cause we honestly confess
That we want to reach the mass
We don't need any fans
Cause our Haters fill the ranks
Watching us celebrate
Every fucking note we play