Lyrics

You paint A's on the cans But you still take out the trash You hate the government But you still accept cash You're mommy's little anarchist With your toy guns Let's go blow up mailboxes And have some fun You're mommy's little anarchist You call the food fight An overthrow Talk real big With nothing to show Just don't exist We don't need no Anarchists If anarchy ruled Daddy wouldn't hold your hand No more cotton candy No more Disneyland Just people taking Everything you own By then it's too late To cry, "There's no place Like home."