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Why aren't we what they be
Where's our sitcom family
Where's the perfect boy and girl
Where's our happy meal
Where is our identity
Your foot is in the door
What the hell
We don't care
We're safe in our four walls

What's happened to our spirit
It's withered, sick and grey
Been scared into blind worship
Can't see any other way
But the problems, they keep arising
We're hurt, we're unfulfilled
'The peasants are getting restless.'
We're sick of pushing shit uphill
When the substance of this system wears too thin

Let's kick it in

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