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