The bigots barely outnumber my regrets as I float around like shit in the Bay. The bigot's barrel just another white male melee (it's just another fucking windy day)
He's free to choose but his choices are few. The rope is loose but it's tied in a noose. He prays to God in the back of the church pews. They won't pass the plate to the blacks or the jews. (Chorus)
She's feeling free until "he" gets a free feel. A reeling plea in machismo battlefield. "I'm up to my neck in the rawest of raw deals. While I'm choking on the B.C. pill" (Chorus)
"I know the rules to know that they're confused and wrong. I'd read my rights it wouldn't take too long. I'll take an inch, no more is offered to a pawn. I wasn't asked, I will respond!"