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 

         A#                         F
and it's only for a moment that the treasures of our day make 

     C                         A#
life easier to complicate, the treasure thrown away,


G   G# F                G      G# F
I'm so tired of all the fucked up minds 

           G    G#     F                 G   G#   F
of all the terrorist religions and their bullshit lines,

           G    G# F                G   G#   F
of all the hand-me-downs from all industrial crimes 

        G  G#   F                         G   G# F
and the weeping mothers and those who are led so blind,

         G   G#  F                G     G# F 
from the plastic protests and the hands of time

        G  G#   F                G G#   F
and the pursuit of mirth and all hating kind