SHITTY FEET

Out of mind and out of sight, when I write, I pierce the darkness with white light, ready to fight
I'm hard-wired with raging fire, ready to criticise consumer whores and their empty lives, fools who are dead inside
They walk in straight lines, follow all the rules, oblivious to corporate crime, ready to win a prize for tool of the year
And it comes as no surprise that they've got products on their minds, and live in constant fear
Of falling behind the times, not being able to keep up with their friends who follow all the latest trends
They like to pretend that they are not superficial fools who follow all the rules, there's oil in the pool
But oil and water don't mix, yet they are too thick to realise that there's more to life than bling and bitches
There's nothing nice for me to say, they sacrifice their lives to the system, unaware that we're all it's victims
They pray to the market, masturbate to images of Ronald McDonald, I didn't want to say it but fuck it - here goes
I wish them all a painful death, hope they rot away until there's nothing left, they make a perfect target, abandon all hope

Consume pollution from inside a balloon
Buffoons competing, capital shifting, wanton theft
Consuming carrion until there's nothing left
They've all got shitty feet and it keeps repeating

Patriotic fools wave flags on invasion day, it's their way to say that the colonisers are here to stay and proud to obey
The prescriptions of society, the illusion that we are free, free to be sorry, but we're not, we're so happy
To be the dominant voice in an ignorant country, isn't it funny how those natives are always so angry when inebriated? failed all the intelligence tests
But the whiteys are not druggies even though they sink endless tinnies of VB, at least they're not tolene junkies like the dispossessed, just like the rest
Socially sanctioned poison, a lubricant for all seasons, slurred words, double vision, that pot is illegal and not fire water isn't is absurd
They believe that to be rich is the Everest of excellence, caught in a consumerist tempest, they believe all the lies they've heard
Everyday they drive their petrol guzzling monsters to work, pressing their horns and waving fists at other jerks who can't drive for shit
Road rage reaching fever pitch, a symptom of the excesses of this day and age for the lard arses of the earth, even on the dole we're rich
When they arrive at work, they talk about the news at the water cooler, expressing their bigoted views, parroting the line of the mainstream media
Then they play with a mouse, click click clicking as time keeps tick tick ticking, producing something but getting nothing for it, the roof is on fire

Consume pollution from inside a balloon
Buffoons competing, capital shifting, wanton theft
Consuming carrion until there's nothing left
They've all got shitty feet and it keeps repeating