You got the look, but not the credit They wrote the book, on how to sell it
From cigarettes, to skinny jeans You got the money, they got the means
Oh you upper class daughters, and working class sons It’s hard to save a dollar, the way the world runs You’re the target market of a corporate joke It won’t be so ironic when your daddy is broke
Surprise surprise, surprise surprise You’re much better looking when you’re in disguise Surprise surprise, surprise surprise And this revolution has been brought to you by
Just gotta stop, so you can mimic The tortured honest, the gyn is cynic
The latest gadget, is just a gimmick Another sucker, born every minute
Well I’m sick of this town, bringing me down A vast world epidemic all around I’m sick of this town, bringing me down A lost generation trying to act profound
Oh you upper class daughters, and working class sons It’s hard to save a dollar the way the world runs We got a counterculture you can buy of a shelf If you’re losing your identity to somebody else
Surprise surprise, surprise surprise You’re much better looking when you’re in disguise Surprise surprise, surprise surprise And this revolution has been brought to you by Those who seek to think we don’t care And those who seek to think we’re not aware Surprise surprise, surprise surprise You’re much better looking when you’re in disguise
Call the ranks… Call the ranks… Call the ranks…
Oh you working class daughters, and upper class sons It’s hard to save a dollar the way the world runs We’re the target market of a corporate hoax Our generation is a f-cking joke