Lyrics
What's another word for fuck?
Sound to incite, tone to give up
Everything we are in tenor drift
No more than air and spit
Machines that move in entitlement
Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer?
Maybe next year
Can you cite which ones abused?
Those without choice,
Those in costume
Identity of the afflicted mind
They want their name on that sign
Longing to be oppressed
Stealing light
Isn't it sick?
Isn't it lit?
Unlike the opportunist
Victim aligned
Finally verified
We're still alive
Oh, to stamp out the meek
Our common enemy
Off with their heads
Off with their heads
Off with their heads
Our words are all the evidence we need
Off with their heads
Off with their heads
Off with their heads
With chosen marks we deviate, transformed
Off with their heads
Off with their heads
Off with their heads
As if these marks resemble those inborn.
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