To the children of privilege Taste the pavement You paid to see an entertainer, but this ain't entertainment You will know a mad scientist He's held captive by his own creation
Now who am I? Lost in GPS infinity Sold the silver lining got welfare for those in tax haven Captain caveman, one ring, few computers between men and homeland security The fed can't save me, its vertigo... Only my phone can find me Only Pitchfork can judge me Please don't shoot me, I'm already dead What's in the pistol? I hope it's loaded with bread The future is soy, digital age destroyed my meat I'm flesh and wires, a Baghdad street 10 millennium of conquering chariot tires Like so many feet back between those who chase buffaloes, and those who chased paper Burned books and paid others to light the fires Past buried in sediment, we fight liars And light up the darkness like and terrorist strike Or someone is off key, throwing the church choir They mock excellence, give raises to their mediocre But there are no equals amongst dwarfs and ogres Vocally, I'm spitting on modernity like a child birth A child soldier, singing songs of dried up seas in style-less verse Taste the agony, it rains down, like when the dinosaurs blinked out An inconvenient stock Wash the blood off your tongue, watch the idiots flock
Ridden with conspiracy, you can't blame us Rode in on a pale horse, yet you can't tame us The race to the middle has begun, you can't sane or same us The mind is a diamond trapped in stone, you can't flame us Even if you burn a village and all the villagers in it There's always a camera, a diary page blowing in the wind and a story to tell it Raised in front of a tv, we just want to be famous Now we wanna be well fed, give us our names back I ain't scared, I'll roll on information until the wheels fall off Till you only get a record release after they go and cut your balls off That's the weight of the world, the uber meinsch rolling in a wheel chair Soon we'll all be fucking and swimming and fighting foreign wars in wheelchairs The world is flat, when atlas shrugs we roll off in our wheelchairs The wool is over our eyes, but the wool is still real here Where wolves guard the sheep There's no grain in the keep Chained in the deep Cuz tame is the way of the weak