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Lyrics

We are/ Taking over the Earth/
With our Wayfarers and our flannel shirts/
There is/ No stopping this/
Hipster apocalypse!

I keep the beat hot, spit fire like arson…
I’m also growing beets in the community garden.
My entire apartment screams I’m an anarchist, a narcissist,
An honest-to-God starving artist.
I’m too cool for dancing.
Damnit I’m fancy.
I’m screening Fellini and Roman Polanski.
I’m ADD antsy,
A little bit angsty.
I’m Afrika Bambaataa meets Bukowski and Banksy…
Borderline brilliant, baby, dropping these bombs!
You can find me in the dive bar, writing songs.
Flaunting my irony, hiding my wealth…
I’m a little like Waldo, trying to find myself.
I’m so postmodern, what’s a genre?
Carpetbag swag from Ojai to Marfa…
And your new favorite song? Yeah… I know.
It’s pretty cool, but it sounds better on vinyl.

We are/ Taking over the Earth/
With our Wayfarers and our flannel shirts/
There is/ No stopping this/
Hipster apocalypse!

I’ll kiss you. I’ll catch you.
There’s something I mustache you…
How can I keep shopping, when all my bills are past due?
People say we’re arrogant, but they’re the ones who stare at us.
And I’d be apathetic… if I cared enough!
I can’t be serious. I’m laughing at it, true to form.
Counterculture cool, this goes out to all my Unicorns!
My hipsters, if you with me, where you at?
Rad, ratchet, rap…
Random acts of swag to keep you swerving with that Hacky Sack.
Been wearing glasses since kindergarten, still a nerd…
Elevate the vintage game from Silverlake to Williamsburg.
Getting down on that dumpster sift,
Just to be like, “Hipster, you ain’t up on this.”
And I can’t even go out and grab some food
Without a Kafka novel and an attitude.
But the big difference between me and you,
Is that I was doing this back before it was cool!

We are/ Taking over the Earth/
With our Wayfarers and our flannel shirts/
There is/ No stopping this/
Hipster apocalypse!

My beard is better than your beard.
Three steps ahead, you think my style is so weird,
But next year you’ll be wearing what I’m rocking today.
I admit it. I’m a hipster. What can I say?
I’m a hipster. I wear my jeans real tight.
I like to sleep all day. I like to party all night.
I moonlight as a consultant in media arts…
I drink pour-over coffee and PBR.
Craft distilled whiskey, double fisting…
Yeah, I’m mixing rye whiskey with bourbon,
Turning heads, I keep them dizzy.
Gimme indie-rock chicks with fixie bikes and pixie cuts
Who understand the irony of drinking IPA from sippy cups.
Yeah, boy, that’s what’s up.
I’m dropping this just to help you get turnt up.
But on a scale of one-to-ten, you’re like a two or three.
And truthfully… You’ll never be as cool as me.

We are/ Taking over the Earth/
With our Wayfarers and our flannel shirts/
There is/ No stopping this/
Hipster apocalypse!

Hipster apocalypse!


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