White Male Carnivore

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 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, 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