I am the sound of the bastards Materialized into persona non grata I know my words'll die faster Shot down by political nirvana Sometimes life's just an empty pool Decades of death stay screaming Staring down that great black hole I tell the truth, you're seething You prescribe to killing, hordes, and hordes of people An idea that went sour in the era of Truman An idealistic window to the working class Oh, your shit is tight, your shit is grooving Sometimes life's just an empty pool Decades of death stay screaming Staring down that great black hole I tell the truth, you're seething This is the place God forgot about It's just a bombed-out shell This is the place God forgot about It's just a bombed-out shell Oh, you're seething Oh, you're seething Fuck!