| And so now we’re wrestling with the body politic
|
| It will spit and salivate on culture
|
| It dictates and lactates
|
| Then we grow up handcuffed and bound to the teat
|
| I think if we chop off the head it grows back
|
| Bigger than before, bigger than before
|
| And we’re stuck, stuck
|
| We’re stuck sucking
|
| And so now we’re wrestling with the body politic
|
| Where buying you attention is applauded
|
| I’ve got a new way, got a new way to sell myself
|
| And you’re grasping with desperate affection
|
| Don’t bother getting past puberty, it just gets worse
|
| The best you’ll hope for is that you like the taste of boredom
|
| We’re stuck sucking
|
| And so now we’re wrestling with the body politic
|
| And so now we’re wrestling with the body politic
|
| Where people shake unwashed hands
|
| And smile politely for posterity
|
| Because a smile’s without consequence, a smile’s without consequence
|
| And is limited to the mouth it came from
|
| Where the teeth are curtains for a lecherous tongue
|
| A lecherous tongue
|
| And so now we’re wrestling with the body politic
|
| The art of compliance is a new science
|
| We’re afraid to make the same mistakes as our fathers
|
| Exact replicas, historical clones
|
| We’re afraid of getting cancer, there’s the threat of being killed
|
| We’re afraid of those in power and afraid of the unskilled
|
| We’re stuck sucking
|
| And so now we’re wrestling with the body politic |