A silly thing it eats at me keeps me up I admit
An ugly need you don't hide I can't help but to see
Gets you hard makes you wet thrilled to talk and to vent
Let me know tell me twice and again and again
The brutal truth of the thing
Is you need to control to feel free
Your own life it's a pit luck is late to each event
Job is lame so are friends simple math less than shit
Appoint yourself take an oath rally troops affix a lens
Letter sent lecture held you're center stage just for a bit
The brutal truth of the thing
Is you need to control to feel free
No Gods, no masters you sing
But you sure love playing police
Mr. Officer
What are my charges?
Mr. Officer
I want to speak in my defense
Mr. Officer
What are my charges?
Mr. Officer
I need the numbers on your badge
I don't trust you with evidence
Your moves and motives they don't match
I want to speak in my defense
