Well hey mr government man,
I'm doing the best I can,
To fit with your righteous plan,
But you've got the upper fucking hand.
Nothing is where I'm from,
And my lot was dispersed wrong,
Still I try to sing along,
Paying taxes, holding hands.
So I ask when does this fucking end?
And you reply "when you're dead my friend",
Yeah this is nature's end,
So how did this become the plan?
Hey brother,
You've got the upper fucking hand,
Sister,
You've got the upper fucking hand,
Oh man,
You've got the upper fucking hand,
Must I?
You bet your motherfucking ass.
Well hey mr everyday man,
At peace and onboard with the plan,
Knowing not for what you stand,
You don't have the upper hand.
So sold on the game you're playing,
But you weren't asked or given a say and,
I think you're on fire inside and,
Chugging antacids and bourbon.
I feel like I'm taking crazy pills,
And washing it down with alcoholic swill,
All the while losing my will,
I just can't seem to love the plan.
All hail the plan,
All hail the plan yeah.
Just shut your mouth,
And raise your hands oh yeah.
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