Beaten - Max Greer

Have I ever told you how much I hate you? No? Well this is as good a place as any to start. I don’t know how much more time I can stand being locked up in your basement, being senselessly beaten down and battered for hours. Honestly it can get a little tiring after a while. You probably think that some girls are into that kind of thing, but believe me, I am not one of them. How would you like it if i went to your house and just beat the crap out of you for fun? You would probably not be into that shit at all. The most I can hope for is that in the process of pounding on me, you’ll get hearing loss and eventually go deaf. Perhaps then you’ll realise that playing drums is pointless to you and you’d leave me alone for the rest of your life. Each day I hope to hear that wonderful news, however usually I’m just left to spend another day collecting dust in the stone prison you call a basement. Also your band totally sucks, and I can’t believe I’m forced into being a part of it. Percussion can’t be that important, especially in your crappy band. No matter how many times a week you have band practice, you’re not getting any better. It’s a lost cause, just give up man. Even though you always talk about becoming a rock star and you daydream about playing in front of a huge crowd, that doesn’t mean it’s necessarily going to happen. Actually, you know what? I hope your shitty band takes off and you become a huge success. I hope you tour the world and play your shitty music in shitty cities, for your shitty fans. As long as that means you’ll have enough money to buy a shiny new drumset to beat the crap out of. Go to your local drumset trafficking ring, pick out a poor, young, innocent kit, make her feel welcome and loved, THEN BEAT HER SENSELESS JUST LIKE YOU DID TO ME! Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t wish this kind of torture on other people, but frankly I deserve a break. I still remember my days as a bright eyed little drumset, sitting on a shelf in the music store. All I wanted was for someone to come along and fall in love with me. They would take me home, set me up in their front room, tune me up, shine my finish and dust off my heads. That was a long time ago, before I knew my true fate, the fate of all drumsets; good and bad. Oh how cruel a destiny to be carried out by me. To the higher power who crafted this diabolical jest, I hate you almost as much as the asshole who tortures me on a daily basis . And that’s saying a lot, because I REALLY hate that douche-canoe. Wow, I’m really getting emotional over here. You know it’s bad when I start using transportation-based insults to degrade people. Whatever, I’m not even sorry. Not once have you shown me pity or respect. I’m just another piece of trash for you to brutally abuse.