Paroles: U.S. Bombs. Rockets.

Look out from your TV
Magazines you read
It's a paranoia
Nice new house ya need
Taught in school with a broken rule
Teach ya bout the money pit
Recluse in wealthy pools
drowning me quick

Your fantasy's, your gonna sink
The rocket ship is on the brink
Dreaming about your hippie hit
Parader magazines
A waste in time, your killing mine

You call this a free country
Free to be a bum industry
Suburban greed
You want everything

Bourgeoisie is gonna rot
Stuffed inside a snob
Bored with the people here
A plastic bubble there