Lyrics

The revolution is no longer cool Now we're gonna see who's who It's a fragile conversation It's unquestionable The impotent, the fetishist The ideological plagiarist They've found a new sensation But it's the same as the old sensation Digging for gold, you'd sell your soul You're out of time You've made a fortune, it's not a crime You've made a fortune, it's not a crime You've made a fortune, it's not a crime You've made a fortune, it's not a crime Flirting with thе bourgeois dream You toy with mediocrity Pеtty predictability; shallow so-called victories I look at everything I wrote It all looks like a ransom note That's certainly part of the appeal Violence is ecstatic Digging for gold, you'd sell your soul You're out of time You've made a fortune, it's not a crime You've made a fortune, it's not a crime You've made a fortune, it's not a crime You've made a fortune, it's not a crime Leave the questions up to us It's not an issue of our trust Your machines will start to rust Go to school, cut your hair Read the paper if you dare It's all pit bulls and bomb scares