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 one's 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