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Every sick fickle fucker
Childhood's what makes you
'Till they treat ya like tundra
Weigh those opinions more like air than lead
Every planned occupation
Surefire disappointment up ahead
Till they treat ya like desert
See mirages of friendship, face turns red
Here's the soon-to-be anchor
Build bridges to nothing, you'll get nowhere
Every governor's mother knows
That their bread is buttered by Sam
And what about science?
They find proof and let you make your own decisions
Every child star wonders
If they have a future up ahead
Every kind-hearted banker
I don't think there is one
Every winning opinion
I wish I had one
Every winning opinion
I wish I had one
Stand on platforms in water
Filling jars full of silence, you'll get nowhere
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