Lyrics

You're so politically correct it crawls down my neck Smug as a bug in your righteousness You talk like you're the original socialist They all sit at you're feet like you are some maharishi As you knock off all of the easy targets And knockup all of the tightest teachers pets And now you are rich man you bought yourself a band You're talking tough and you're playing loud You sure know how to please your crowd They all rally around you in their sweat shop stylie-man suits Flashing their bright red union cards Blaring all your CDs from their oriental cars