Album: Something Wicked

Chaos

The son of families of millionaires is representing the masses
I thought that most people I know are broke
Taxation by representation tell me all about it huh
How does this whole damn trickle down thing work
Don't blame me your sins are on your head
I won't be accused I'm a product of my times
I've left your future behind
Let's talk about hypocrisy
you supercillous son of a bitch
You want to talk about the mess I've made
Well you better check under your bed
The war on drugs the war on crime
the war on poverty the war on peace
It's seems to me we're only fighting ourselves
Since when did we become the enemy
Don't blame me your sins are on your head
I won't be accused I'm a product of my times
I've left your future behind
Sit back in your easy chair and lecture me on how it was
You make it sound like the world went to hell exactly on the day I was born
Open your eyes open your mind and look at thing the way that they are
Stop looking at the world through a prism of delusional thought