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 
         A#                         F
and it's only for a moment that the treasures of our day make 
     C                         A#
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