Franklin Bruno Idiots
They wanna make you feel worse
'Cause you love what they hate
They wanna make you ashamed
Of your very best trait
They'll call you defective
'Cause you've not perfected a line of defense
They'll call you deficient
'Cause you're not proficient at false confidence
It's true, in a sense
But not in the sense that they mean
They wanna make you feel worse
'Cause you're thick in the waist
They wanna make you ashamed
Of your Catholic taste
They'll call you unworthy
'Cause you're not some earthy hail fellow, well met
Who's good with a pool cue, they'd like to retool you
And make you forget the limits aren't set
By their great infernal machine
All that's on their side is numbers and strength
Why else do you think they go to such lengths
To cut people down when they're already weak?
Tyin' bells 'round the neck of the old village freak
They think it's their duty
To capture all beauty and force it to crawl
But don't let them touch you
No matter how much you are tempted to fall
Their power's a spectre, a shadow protector
It's nothing at all, a great paper wall
They call it an invisible screen
Keeping you from your dreams
Don't you let them put it up between