Thirty years of the same old shit

Of music, money, hit after hit

Smiles, lies, sales, walls

That's thirty years of rock and roll

They changed it's name once or twice

Get rebellious with a company deal

Business thrives where honesty fails

Contracts? Con tricks!

Sing revolution, wait 'til it starts

One eye on the bank account, one on the charts

Government-sponsored rebellion--buy it!

A bit more product to keep us quiet!

Shhh

Product sells, people die

Same revolution, wrapped in lies

In these sexist, drugged-up, rock and roles

The biggest prizes to the biggest fools

Ask the puppet-masters who pull the strings

'Who makes the money when the puppets sing?'

Ask the corporations

'Where does the money go?'

Ask the empty-bellied children

'Tell me what are we singing for?'

Until we pull down the walls

It'll stay the same

Until we find something new

Make it change

I know there most be more

So what are we singing for?

These puppets, underneath the skin, have the same problems as you and me--they want to be loved, don't know where to begin. Just a wall's width away, but impossible to get close. Offstage, with nothing to hide behind, the puppets are running away. And meanwhile, we're running away from ourselves... and meanwhile, we're running away from ourselves... and meanwhile, we're running away from ourselves...

If our music makes you happy or content

It has failed

If our music entertains, but doesn't inspire

It has failed

The music's not a threat

Action the music inspires can be a threat!

I know there must be more...