Windspitting Punk

Give me just a second

To grasp your two bit theories

As that's more than enough time

I need to see through

Their innate queries

You're telling me to shape up

Or ship out but I'd never shape myself

For something so offending

As you and your kind

One day you sweetly sigh

And say to yourself

Music's my religion and

I'm born again next week your muse

Has got some corporate cash

And all of a sudden

The tunes are crap

Keep your politics to yourself

Kid to me you're just spitting

Wind a windspitting punk

With high brow views a p c fool

Who's saying nothing

New again and again

What about the kids

Piss poor people and the broke

Or the sluts with overflowing pockets

Or the cursed f**ks

Pointin' pistols at the pope

Are they jusy martyrs fallen

From your graces

Give me just a second to

Grasp your two bit theories as

That's more than enough time

I need to see through their innate

Queries you're telling me

To shape up or ship out but

I'd never shape myself

For something so offending

As you and your kind

As you