Head? Chest? Or Foot?

Three choices One bullet One trigger Guess who gets to pull it? One leader A thousand slaves For every throne There's a thousand graves You're all the same Just part of their machine Perpetuate their dream They subsidize your nightclubs And they subsidize your malls They herd and brand the masses Within painted prison walls Until your freedom of assembly Becomes the missiles they create Or just mass delusion, dancing To this music that you fucking hate But I'm not the same I'm not part of your fucking machine I'll jeopardize your dream I'd rather be imprisoned In a George Orwellian world Than your pacified society Of happy boys and girls I'd rather know my enemies And let them know the same Whose windows are smashed and whose tires are slashed And where to point the fucking blame One future Two choices Oppose them Or let them destroy us