Every sick fickle fucker   Childhood's what makes ya   Till they treat you like tundra   Weigh those opinions, more like air than lead      Every planned occupation   Surefire disappointment up ahead   Till they treat you like desert   See mirages of friendship, face turns red      He's soon to be an anchor   Build the bridges to nothing, you'll get nowhere   Every governor's mother knows   That their bread is buttered by Sam      And what about science?   Then find the proof   And let you make   Your own decisions      Every child star wonders   If they have a future up ahead   Every kind hearted banker   I don't think there is one      Every winning opinion   I wish I had one   Every winning opinion   I, I wish I had one      Stand on platforms in water   Filling jars full of silence you'll get nowhere   [Incomprehensible]      [Incomprehensible]