They were pleasing to listen to,
Everywhere they went, the crowd grew,
Misunderstood Indie, what did you know?
The beat of your music was unknown to the common joe.
Lyrics after lyrics, they turned against you,
The blame on you, the fool,
Sang the Pop and cracked your chime,
Graced them with frivolous time,
You? Not a single dime.
What to do? What fools knew?
‘Twas alright, you held the clue.
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