Break the wiring harness, stop the cameras Snakes are firing arms and block the answers Clouded plots blow spots with robot newscasters After two masters shoot whispers through roof rafters Pa** it on to the next master gone street merchant Next person to purchase a version of these freak's words And playtime might make time stand still Saluting riots and looting, it's a primetime k** Take me back to the way it used to be Usually move my feet, now I stand still While your will chooses defeat Chew some pills so you can sleep Only to wake to 9 to 5 to life and can't escape your fate, right? Turn on your break lights and turn left wing Let's sing “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” And carry it to the burial ground around the corner Warm your order forms born from your shorter thorns Torn from your garden Choose your corporate credit card While the senate scars the tenants Lieutenants mar the menace peasants While the medic yawns and turns his head in pillow dreams 20,00 leagues deep in American Dream sleep soliloquies k**ing me with free speech Impediment residents don't know a goddamn thing About the irrelevant tenements I'm not dancing To the ranting and raving Paving paths past the mating season Leaving dreamers breeding in the land of the lost You're dreaming When the saints go marching in I'll market them to demons Can you pull this cannibalist out of the animal's fist With a Hannibalistic wit, you'll fit me in your schedule Hidden in your incredible edible head full of skull snaps That's that for the dull raps And I see you knocking back cheap bourbon You're f**ing knees hurting and you can't be a complete person Cause that sheet's certain to make a stereotype Paper Tiger keeps the stereo tight, I make the burial rights I was buried alive riding merry-go-rounds around the burial grounds Lounging in the f**ing lap of luxury Like ooh, barracuda I could swear that you were in the school, who bears the fruit of their labor f** that pay dirt, got me reaching for the razor This one's for the racist that mocks the caged bird The one that gives my dumb skull crumbs for a day's work That's why I write a song about fire bombs, f** Viacom Sing me a song that's long and meaningful Pull me into your premise baby make me want it bad news Sad moves, truth is a monsoon Dressed up in costumes on Fox News Let me mock you to sleep sleepy headbanger Got to wait your turn to earn your turn through the turnstile Schemes form four peace wars with taskforce For more resources for gas who*es You're dreaming