You don't know where I've been
You don't know what I've seen
We've got a job and it's keeping the airwaves free from fear now
Cut it out
What's the point in rolling tape if it's done in fear
Cut it, cut it, cut it out, cut it out
Cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it, cut it, cut
Out all the bullshit smeared in your eyes
I can't remember the last time I heard such a good line
So repugnant, so deceitful and perfect in function
No wars, no pain
Like a home with empty picture frames
No truth, no future
That's the status quo, you might as well get used to it
F*cking comatose carols at your door
A haunted home, a dour tone
I have never wanted anything more
Like a hound that's lost its scent
Put that dog down before it bites again
Put that dog down before it bites again
Put that dog down before it bites again
Put it down
Put that dog down before it bites again
Put it down