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 your social class You're stuck there and it's hard to pass Their social norms and social rules We're social scum, they're social tools They tell us all their social lies Ignoring all our social cries We lose the game before we start
They watch us dance, we fall apart
Let's be ourselves and never be social We'll play their games but never be social Ken and Barb in Greek fatigues Tell us what we ought to be
The care to drive what to think 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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