Your Problem

Progress, progress Which kind of begs the question From what? To where? Lord spare me from idiots Wrapped snug in their "radical politics" Their ideals smelling so sweet Still kept in the box that they bought them in Stored safe and sound underneath the bed at their mum's house Lord spare me from charlatan cheats Who went down to the old cowboy store And bought out all of the white hats Like that's some kind of fucking argument winner Progress, progress Which kind of leaves a question From what? To where? Back to the playground Your problem is you're all cunts And while you put up an impressive front Of understanding the ways of the world And maybe even having slept with a girl Yeah the truth is I can see right through Because I used to think just like you Back when I was an adolescent But since then I've learnt a couple of lessons That your intentions are beside the point It's the outcome of your actions that count If your intentions are pure when you fuck me I'll still get the STDs Lord spare me from idiots wrapped Snug in their "radical politics" All their ideals smelling so sweet Still kept in the boxes they bought them in All animals are equal but some are pigs All animals are equal but some are pigs, dumb as pigs All animals are equal but some are pigs All animals are equal but some are pigs, dumb as pigs All animals are equal but some are pigs All animals are equal but some are pigs, dumb as fucking pigs