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D A
let's gather 'round the carcass of the old deflated beast,
C G
we have seen it through the accolades and rested in its lea,
D A
syntactic is our elegance, incisive our disease,
C G D
the swath endogenous of ourselves will be our quandary,
D A
we've nestled in its hollow and we've suckled at its breast,
C G
grandiloquent our attitude, impassioned yet inept,
D A
frivolous gavel our design, ludicrous our threat,
C G D
excursive expeditions leave us holding less and less,
A
so what does it mean?
F C
when we tell ourselves it's only for a while we have been deceived
Bb F
and it's only for a moment that the treasures of our day make
C Bb
life easier to complicate, the treasure thrown away,
G G# F G G# F
I'm so tired of all the fucked up minds
G G# F G G# F
of all the terrorist religions and their bullshit lines,
G G# F G G# F
of all the hand-me-downs from all industrial crimes
G G# F G G# F
and the weeping mothers and those who are led so blind,
G G# F G G# F
from the plastic protests and the hands of time
G G# F G G# F
and the pursuit of mirth and all hating kind
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