chore – american machinist lyrics
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i was american
i pushed in to play
a spoilsport, a camera
the americans
cold washed in etiquette
clean sm+t politics
in churches full of firearms
sound the alarm
rise, gut the roads
judge this game
by the number of players
how un+american
how an american bellwether
points out what i’m doing wrong
the world knows you love to f+ck
you’re kidnaped
let’s get reactionary
you don’t have to go to war
or twist my arm
paid this kid to break my neck
but his routine was priceless
do i sound alarmed?
i’ve got no eyes
no slight historic look upon my face
touched by how your cities burn
hearts swell; a good reason for the night
your children disappear
i know
children disappear
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