Oust or crumble, you gonna crumble?
Tell me what you preach for?
Preacher man
I'll tell you what you preach for
Absolutely nothin'
I said, hey, you white carnivore
Say, say, come here to eat us all, ah
You're some kind of animal
Or just a white male carnivore
With a low pain threshold
You are the glass house throwin' stones
You think that you got the finger on the pulse
But you, you must have a heart that must be made of stone
Like a relic, a figure
Or some kind of neoclassical pillar
The pillar of your society has no clarity
Smoke and mirrors
Say, I'm a white carnivore and I feel everything, not superior
Say, I'm not an animal
No, I'm a white male carnivore
With a low pain threshold
Am I a glass house throwin' stones?
I don't think I've got the finger on the pulse
And I just can't cry 'cause I'm made of stone
Those relics, those figures
Crumblin' neoclassical pillars, woo
They're gonna crumble, I'll watch you crumble
Ah, imperialists, in provincial towns
Pledging allegiance to the pound
Ah they feel they've been robbed, feel they've been robbed
Feel they've been robbed, feel they've been robbed
Feel they've been robbed, feel they've been robbed
Feel they've been robbed, feel they've been robbed, woo
Woo, c'mon, shout
He's got the whole wide world in his hands
He's got the whole wide world in his hands
He's got the whole wide world in his hands
He's got the whole wide world in his hands
He's got the whole wide world in his hands
He's got the whole wide world in his hands
Whole wide world in his hands
He's got everybody here in his hands
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
