So this is where the future lies In a beer gut belly In an open fly Brilcremed, acrylic, mindless boys Punching, kicking, making noise From the cradle to the city streets They spill out their aggression By punching what they don't understand And stopping all forms of expression Teaching each other to be men By spewing in the street Well now I know just what to do To make my man complete! Against the power of their misguidance
We must learn to fight To be just what we want to be Morning, noon and night Night is for the hunters And the hunted are you and me Hunted for just having Some form of identity Night is for the hunters And the hunted are you and me Hunted for just retaining Some form of identity Night is for the hunters And the hunted are you and me Hunted for just having Some form of individuality.