Clock-in collar Smile-on chain Praise the paycheck Kiss the pain Line up, lapdogs Bite your tongues Sell your spine Save your lungs I don’t wanna be Your concrete citizen Nailed down, numb, obedient Stuff your flag in the management bin I don’t wanna be Your concrete citizen Vote for vultures Cheer the cage Scroll the circus Mute the rage Boss says “family” Landlord grins Priest sells shame In little tins I don’t wanna be Your plastic patriot Foam-mouthed mascot, wagging for it Burn that script, I’ll spit on the chorus I don’t wanna be Your plastic patriot Line up, line up Lick that boot Shut up, shut up Choke on truth I don’t wanna be Your house-trained heretic Caged, declawed, nice and aesthetic Tear that smile from my stitched-up face I don’t wanna be Your concrete human race
