President Dead
This is for the people, they want you
This is for the people, they want you
Getting high on violence, baby
President Dead is clueless
And he's caught in a headlight, police-stated god
And his skull is stained glass
Incubated and jet set
The bitter thinkers buy their tickets
To go find god like a piggy in a fair
And we don't want to live forever
And we know that suffering is so much better
This is for the people, they want you
This is for the people, they want you
Getting high on violence, baby
Give the pills time to work
We all could be martyred in the
Winter of our discontent
Getting high on violence, baby
Every night we are nailed into place and
Every night we just can't seem to
Ever remember the reason why
Getting high on violence, baby
And we don't want to live forever
And we know that suffering is so much better
This is for the people, they want you
This is for the people, they want you
Getting high on violence, baby
And we don't want to live forever
And we know that suffering is so much better
