Social

Squirtgun

A skeleton in a suit and tie

tells us what we ought to buy

A bag of coke and a nuclear heart

Support your conscience, that's a start



If you win the game, some have to lose

The fun part is that you can't choose

You're born into a social class,

You're stuck there, it's hard to pass



Their social norms and social rules

We're social scum and they're social fools

They tell us all their social lies

Ignoring all our social cries

We'll lose the game before we start

They watch us dance, we fall apart

Well lets be ourselves and never be social

We'll play their game but never be social



Ken and Barb in greek fatigues

tell us what we ought to be

The cars to drive, and what to drink

Ignorant bliss, no need to think

As Barb cakes fetus on her face

Ken sucks blood at his workplace

They take from you, they take from me

Society's anomalies

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