Wants a dirty little payday Wants a secret in his hand Nobody trusts him with the reason Nobody tells him who commands He’d pawn his grandmother for a dime If Telegram said “easy money, easy time” Photograph the gate Follow the van Just toss him some spare change Wegwerfagent Agent for a day They keep their distance You take the charge They scrub the chat You wear the cuffs Wegwerfagent Cheap enough to throw away Sell a password Open a door Switch the shipping cargo slips Paint the symbol Stage the hate Take the picture Post the frame Make somebody local wear the shame He’ll do it for spare change Wegwerfagent Agent for a day They write the message You spray the wall They feed the outrage You take the fall Wegwerfagent Used, denied, discarded Not a spy Not an asset Not even worth the lie You’re the fingerprints they leave behind When everybody else walks by Light the fire Stir the crowd Do the dirty work Then disappear into the crowd You thought you joined intelligence? Darling Intelligence never joined you Catch a hot shot, hotshot See what all that swagger bought Take a bullet Take the drop Out the window Then they stop Every message Every trace Gone before you hit the pavement Chat erased Case closed Did you really think You’d get paid? Wegwerfagent Agent for a day All that dirty work For somebody else’s game Turns out he was spare change Wegwerfagent You’re dirt.
