I know that your world and my world don't seem to mix
We've both got different ways of getting our kicks
My way is flying the flag and backing down to nobody
Your way is making up lies, and telling your stories
(chorus)
You give us so much pressure
You're trying to bring us down
You give us so much pressure
But we ain't gonna get out of town
Lies, lies, lies, you never seem to tell the truth
I've never seen so much rubbish and it's written by you
You call yourselves the Gentlemen of the Press
Well who are your bosses? Well I can take damn good guess
(chorus)
The time is gonna come when you have to account for your lies
Whether you tell the truth must depend on the price
You ruin somebody's life and then it's back to the bar
Nothing else matters but expenses and your company car
