| Well, everyone knows you’re an asshole
|
| And your new occupation lets everyone know for sure
|
| Directing traffic in the Big Apple
|
| And toting a gun, wearing a badge that you swore you’d never wear
|
| Like faded ink on the backside of your arm
|
| «Kill Your Idols» and wear them down and out
|
| You’re wearing them down and out because you’ve sold out
|
| Well, we all knew you were an asshole
|
| But you’ve really brought yourself to a new kind of all-time low
|
| Where the bullied becomes the bully
|
| And bullies what it’s built on, in blue
|
| A uniform that you swore you’d never wear
|
| Like faded ink on the backside of your arm
|
| «Kill Your Idols» and wear them down and out
|
| You’re wearing them down and out
|
| Well, you should get used to doughnuts
|
| And drinking too much coffee
|
| While I watch your punk rock past
|
| Disappear as fast as you’ll be reading its Miranda rights
|
| You’re reading its Miranda rights
|
| You’ll be reading its Miranda rights
|
| So, arrest me if I’m convinced
|
| That more often than not
|
| The worst kinds of people become… |