Every sick, fickle fucker Childhood's what makes ya Till they treat ya like tundra Weigh those opinions More like air than lead Every planned occupation Surefire disappointment up ahead Till they treat ya like desert See mirages of friendship, face turns read Here's the soon to be anchor Build bridges to nothing, you'll get nowhere Every governor's mother knows That their bread is buttered by Sam And what about science? they find proof and let you make your own decisions Every childstar wonders If they have a future up ahead Every kindhearted banker I don't think there is one Every winning opinion Stand on platforms in water Filling jars full of silence you'll get nowhere
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