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Sitting out the goose step |
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Of the long march of the Yes-men |
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As their gold card wielding wives |
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Are consumed by bitterness |
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It takes a lifetime to conceive |
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That your days in the sun are but brief |
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So they snivel and repeat the echoes |
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That buzz off every screen |
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No wonder that the sociopaths |
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At the top of the human thrash pile |
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Refer to us as cattle, we are branded |
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Sold and fatted, we're raised for a purpose |
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A drear existence on the work farm |
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And then a quiet death in the nursing barn |
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"You must pay your dues", cries the humble mind |
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We're distracted with excuses |
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Why we can't reach for the stars |
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And so we never spring to arms to claim back |
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What's being taken from us here every single fucking day |
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If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, another one cries |
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We're distracted with excuses |
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Why we can't reach for the stars |
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And so we never spring to arms |
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To reclaim what we are losing everyday |
