They know you've got nothing to lose 

Because if you'd had a chance you would've lost that too

Dazzled by the image of the self-made man

They hold out shiny things and then they slap your hand

It's not what you are, it's not what you do

It is what you've got and who you'll screw

Your boot straps were broken before you arrived



Throw my hands up at this world sometimes

People get shot for fucking clothing 

The nation's best dressed genocide



Style is the bait put your hand in your pocket

envy is the hook and there's no way to stop it

They will reel you in everytime



You watch the images on your t.v.

It's full of plastic people who you'll never be

They want you to feel ugly because it sells more shit

you've got to measure up or else you'll never fit

It's not what you say, it's not you outlook

It is what you've got, it is how you look

The pageant was over before you arrived



Throw my hands up at this world sometimes

People carve up their fucking faces

People get sick for others eyes



Sit back, don't worry about nothing

Does anybody see the irony in cloning sheep?

Yeah, that's just what the world needs, more sheep

Like there aren't already millions of us

There's already millions of us.