Why aren't we what they be? Where's our sitcom family? Where's the perfect boy and girl? Where's our happy meal? Where is our identity? Your foot is in the door What the hell? We don't care We're safe in our four walls
What's happened to our spirit? It's withered, sick and grey Been scared into blind worship Can't see any other way But the problems, they keep arising We're hurt, we're unfulfilled 'The peasants are getting restless' We're sick of pushing shit uphill When the substance of this system wears too thin
