lyrics
Past the point of false returns
After our money earned
Through counterfeit Laotian Hawaiian shirts
To liquidate our assets
Liquidate our bodies
Cause our T4’s always destined to be shoddy
Riding in on dino fossils, bureaucrats attack
Their forms become colossal, to crush us in the stack
Shitty suited demons,
Trying to push their murder quota to the black
We have earned 10,000 Moose points and more
A halo of antlers, spruce crafted swords
Bulky bullmoose steeds, and also loaded C6’s
Sending our first wave
Of red shirts to be killed
Despite our best attempts
There’s nowhere to hide
(Spoken bit)” A bureaucrat, wielding a giant stamp which is also legally an axe, swinging it wildly runs at me. I fire in his general direction, but having never fired a machine gun before, it veers off and hits a different bureaucrat in his face. Lucky me. I yell “Look over there, an unchecked box!”, and my foe comes to a proper rolling stop, right before I slice him with my Spruce Sword! And to him I say “That was a rather… taxing experience.” No time to celebrate, as I see a volley those… spike things, that you… put… receipts on andOW. FUCK.”
(solo)
(slow bit) This is the sad part
Where we are now beaten, I guess
We were supposed to get a soprano singer to record this,
But she couldn’t make it
She was being… audited
Turn our backs and head away
But I gotta say,
We ain’t running, we just forgot today is laundry day
Our good battle clothes are in the wash
This whole thing’s just kabosh
An unfair fight, technically not a loss
Bureaucrats have burned it all away
The temples, the churches the Asian buffet!
Buried our oxycontin in the ground,
Tax exempt status down the toilet
All the way down
No wall can keep the
Green machine away
No suit can deter
The quest for easy money
The moose will live, and rise again
Til death takes us it’s not the end
The greatest and sexiest criminal minds,
We phish and plunder til’ the end of time
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