I don't know who wrote this book
And I don't care who sang that song
It's nothing good to fall upon
It's no one who I follow along
Don't tell me what you believe
Tell me what you know
You forge your own morals from the sh** that you borrow
Taking for granted all the tomorrows
Forcing a constant apology, pressing your guilt on all that you see
Well, all those fingers that you pointed are flipping birds back at you
Pushing your pushing pushing too hard
Oppressor your pressure is getting on my nerves