Folklore

I've seen your mouth moving, heard others here say Those words are a piece of a part that you played That sounds like your father, a teacher, the church Didn't spring from the heart, but research The only way I learn is put the fist in and get burned Go get burned Old wives, mystics, hearsay Wise men, rich men, shamen and sage When you're meek on the Earth, when you die you will pay For accepting that lot, in the cheapest of graves The sexes divided, men mustn't be weak Sensitivity is a vice of which we shan't speak And women are a plaything that are just made for men To treat how the boss he respects treats him And I am going to grow up like daddy wanted me to be To impress all those, who so impressed me And young boys melt into men And we'll start the process again Add a touch of mystique where the writing gets weak Break up coherence with a cut-cut-cut up technique When you've got nothing to say Shut up or show that you're willing to play With words that simply aren't out of touch With the genuine feelings which lead to their birth Most things are better not written or heard When you open your mouth, out drops a turd The only way I learn is put the fist in and get burned