You, you are not a riot
You are right wing terror military a**ault
You, you are not rebellion
You are a pretty piece of paper which is signed by murderers
You, you are not a riot
You are the tight leather pants on the old ex-general
You, you are not rebellion
I got the invite to your party and I threw it away
You, you are not a riot
You're an apologetic pad for the judge's gavel
You, you are not rebellion
You are a sitcom based on a torture chamber
You, you are not a riot
You are the fanfare for the king's drunken vomit
You, you are not rebellion
I got the invite to your party and I threw it away
A rebellion is both love and lust
And a riot is when lightning hits the right spot
And my painting isn't finished till it k**s you
And it makes you feel more powerful than pills do
A rebellion is both love and lust
And a riot is when lightning hits the right spot
And my painting isn't finished till it k**s you
And it makes you feel more powerful than pills do
You, you are not a riot
You are a condo complete with wall to wall carpet bomb
You, you are not rebellion
You're a well funded beat down in the boss's washroom
You, you are not a riot
You're the cold fish breath of d**h at my neck
You, you are not rebellion
I got the invite to your party and I threw it away
You fascist fashionista
You imperial chanteuse
You upper, crusty punk
You pillager's excuse
You duke and disciple of disconnection
Who fel**tes the Empire State
Building blank space on your paper
Matching blank looks on your face
A rebellion is both love and lust
And a riot is when lightning hits the right spot
And my painting isn't finished till it k**s you
And it makes you feel more powerful than pills do
A rebellion is both love and lust
And a riot is when lightning hits the right spot
And my painting isn't finished till it k**s you
And it makes you feel more powerful than pills do
You get hyped by the font in the d**h warrant
By the grain of the wood in the electric chair
The accent of the undertaker
By the architecture of police stations
By the reflection on the gun
By the crackle of the flame
You get hyped by the aesthetic of rebellion
No questions asked
You are not a riot