The last survivor with a boiled crown
Another casualty with a casual frown
The janitor vandals they bark in your face
Juveniles with the piles and paste
It's a sensation, a bankrupt corpse
In the garbage classes with the crutches of force
Don't be confused when your fuse is up
And you're taking a leak into your brother's cup
When the cup is filled, you can run and be
killed
In the billion miles and the muscles that build
Radiation, feeling the force
Karaoke, vomiting morons
The scalps of zero hailing the call
Rubbing in the blindness of them all
With the canker sores and the robot pills
Throwing imbeciles on the window sills
It's a sensation, a bankrupt corpse
In the garbage classes with the crutches of force
Force! Force! Force!