---

My face says good morning but
my mind is saying Kill
all these sick mother-fuckers
who think they are the big deal
Nighttime come around
they crawl into their holes
in their corporate pyjamas
with their corporate wife-assholes

So they kneel
for their meal
in their golden church
they make their deals
they pray for power
to devour
all the corporate clones
of the hour

There's no gain
Cos their brains
are Blunt Instruments
No salvation
the corporation
is a Blunt Instrument

BUREAUCRAT:
" I think I'll make a deal
with God
Maybe I'll buy a timeshare
in Heaven
Hmm, competitive rates,
dates with angels"

So they kneel
for their meal
in their golden church
they make their deals
they pray for power
to devour
all the corporate clones of the hour
There's no gain
Yes their brains
Are Blunt Instruments

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