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I fucking love that one rock video where
That fucking jack-ass mohawked millionaire
Prances around by far the worst
Sausage party on earth
Where by random chances he's caught on film shaking hands
With an incredibly diverse selection of patriotic skins
I like the message it sends
With a rebel yell
Just do exactly what you're told
One million douchebags can't be wrong
"When did punk rock become so safe?"
Well, you'll excuse me if I laugh in your face
While I itemize your receipts
And PowerPoint your balance sheets
I hear this year's Van's Warped Tour is going green
I guess they heard that money grows on trees
Hope they ship those shitty bands overseas
Like they did the factories
Music's power to
Describe, compel, renew
It's all a distant second to
The offers you can't refuse
Remember when we used to believe
That music was a sacred place, not some fucking bank machine?
Not something you just bought and sold
How could we have been so naive?
I think when all is said and done
Just 'cause we were young
Doesn't mean we were wrong
And I'll rock back and forth
On this two-bit hobby horse
Until she splinters and gives way
I'll tend the flowers by her grave and whisper her name
If anyone out there understands
Can I please see a show of hands?
Just so I know I'm not insane
Ever get the feeling you've been played?
Well, that's rock for sustainable capitalism and you know
We may face a scorched and lifeless earth
But they're accountable to their shareholders first
That's how the world works
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