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 
 
         Bb                         F
and it's only for a moment that the treasures of our day make 
 
     C                         Bb
life easier to complicate, the treasure thrown away,
 
 
G   Ab F                G      Ab F
I'm so tired of all the fucked up minds 
 
           G    Ab     F                 G   Ab   F
of all the terrorist religions and their bullshit lines,
 
           G    Ab F                G   Ab   F
of all the hand-me-downs from all industrial crimes 
 
        G  Ab   F                         G   Ab F
and the weeping mothers and those who are led so blind,
 
         G   Ab  F                G     Ab F
from the plastic protests and the hands of time
 
        G  Ab   F                G Ab   F
and the pursuit of mirth and all hating kind