| On the grid
|
| Got a government contract to overcharge -- no bid
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| Less and less of us living large -- no shit
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| A lesson plan about cutting art -- blow kiss
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| I love the way you say it’s for the kids -- quote this:
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| I love the way you make it fully legit
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| Cause you got a television bully pulpit
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| What’d the pope say?
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| Jesus never asked a leper for a co-pay
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| One for the money
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| Two for the… (what?) money
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| Are you a senator?
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| You for the money
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| We lose all the money
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| «The truth or the money»
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| «The youth are the money»
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| We stupid for money
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| Is it clear enough?
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| «Yeah, but it ain’t weird enough.»
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| Ya-ya-ya-ya, ya-ya, ya-ya, poof, fixed!
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| «I love cynical, senseless, selfish tricks» --
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| Now it sounds like America, sick!
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| Let’s bow our heads and pray our teachers don’t get raises
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| Let’s pray our children get degrees that cost what spaceships do
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| America, you’re so cool
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| (All for one, all for one, all for one…)
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| All for more bravado
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| The chart leads to the delta, echoing across the gulf
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| A hotel in diaspora’s best slum, where Juliet runs drugs by the kilo
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| Leave the mic alone
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| No embers or scars
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| Give me the flame, but no plot?
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| Whiskey tango foxtrot?!
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| America, why the long face?
|
| So we broke our vows
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| So failure tagged us 'it,'
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| The mortal pang in Stanley Kunitz' flaming wheel of bones.
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| You made us run amok
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| You made us grab the largest pieces of metal and froth and clang
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| So what good is lyric, Orpheus?
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| What good the nail?
|
| What notes now?
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| «Get off of it!» |
| I admit, I’m a bit unruly
|
| Ignore UN rulings when a country’ll sue me
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| Here’s a cheerleader secret for you pom-pom heads:
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| 'Is that a riot?' |
| is just something that my mom says
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| (Oh, shit, Judy!) Signed yours, truly
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| News flash: you can’t cover your chemo?
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| Move fast to where they care about people
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| For real, though, I love all the music we make
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| I love the beautiful states
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| I love hip-hop and rock
|
| I love the usual things
|
| I love my black tube socks
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| I love drum line, drum corps, drum trolls, drum war
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| Drum rolls, drum lore, kids that want to drum more
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| Shadow on my wrist, battle EQ with a fist
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| Like «ba-goo-ba-goo-ba-goo ju-ju-ju gock!»
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| It doesn’t matter if we kill their dreams
|
| Our most beaten-down always go and steal the scene, so:
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| Let’s bow our heads and pray the poor will keep enlisting
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| Thank God we’re sending them to war to fight for CEOs
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| America, I thought we were bros?
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| (Hit hard, hit hard, hit hard…)
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| Hit up a Quebecois hospital
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| When in Rome, explode
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| See no error
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| A unified form, poorly fitted
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| To the victor goes the gilded cow
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| An ex-marine denied pension
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| All chains yanked
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| For your service, you lose.
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| (You lose! Hit me!)
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| Whiskey tango foxtrot?!
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| America, no one can beat you in gun crime
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| No one can touch you in musical revolutions
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| But your kids aren’t that bright
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| And you eat like shit.
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| You made our hearts' cadence wed the off- and back-beat
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| So that their swaying hips wouldn’t arouse suspicion farther north
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| You created colloquialisms that mean the opposite of their literal definition
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| And then made that policy an international platform:
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| An exchange for merit
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| A bartering professional, a 'charm offensive,'
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| And a hearse for every ode.
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| America, our concertmaster
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| You must conduct yourself from that gloriously-out-of-tune piano
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| The soloist is stoned
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| Othar Turner says «heap see, but mighty few know.'
|
| While the world makes flesh of flesh, we etch our names in gold.
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| We fetch our flaming bones…
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| We fetch our flaming bones…
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| We fetch our flaming bones…
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| Let’s bow our heads and pray that science is a put-on.
|
| Let’s pray that clarity of thought is just a passing fad.
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| America, who’s your dad?
|
| Let’s bow our heads and pray we privatize the whole thing
|
| (Oh sea, can you say…
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| If you want your mail delivered now, you’re going to have to pay
|
| …"die by brawn’s surly might?")
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| Let’s make this shit a feudal estate
|
| Let’s bow our heads…
|
| Let’s bow our heads…
|
| Let’s bow our heads…
|
| Let’s bow our heads…
|
| (Oh sea, can you say…
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| Let’s bow our heads and say a prayer tonight:
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| …"die by brawn’s surly might?")
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| My cool America
|
| (Oh sea, can you say…
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| I’m still in love with you…
|
| …"die by brawn’s surly might?")
|
| (Oh sea, can you say «die by brawn’s surly might?»)
|
| (Oh sea, can you say «die by brawn’s surly might?») |