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Whine, whine, whine, whine, whine.
Shut your mouth, now take your seat
Revolution, turn it on!
How can you afford to throw me those looks when you
haven't pulled the bloody wool from over your eyes?
How can you afford to say those things to me when you haven't pulled the boot of the past out of your mouth?
You havent pulled, you havent pulled the bloody wool
you havent pulled the bloody wool from over your eyes.
Tepid morals personality set for easy calibration knowledge of importance paramount.
Marooned a suicidal caste deal with isolation grease the wheels chameleon.
Sliding through social strata and yet you still whine.
Your conviction is merely iconographic.
I'm so sick of hearing you whine shut up.