21st Century Pop Song

The one true resolve of the flame and the bullet
Is a pile of flesh like an unmanned puppet
A set of bones gone suddenly still
And in a lab under every flag right now

Someone's splitting atoms and inventing new breakfast cereals
In the shape of their nation's borders
And drawing brand new maps
Discreetly expanding their nation's borders

It's root, root, root for the home team
Shout like your dad at the TV screen
Tie a dollar bill around a circus flea
The fee to flee what you can't see

Well, it's root, root, root for the home team
Shout like your dad at the TV screen
Tie a dollar bill around a circus flea
Yo, I agree, with glee, with me, well

Somebody told me when the bomb hits
Everybody in a two mile radius will be instantly sublimated
But if you lay face down on the ground for some time
Avoiding the residual ripples of heat, you might survive

Permanently fucked up and twisted like you're always underwater refracted
Oh, but if you do go gas, there's nothing you can do
If the air that was once you is mingled and mashed
With the kicked up molecules of the enemy's former body
Big kid tested, motherfucker approved

Well, root, root, root for the home team
Shout like your dad at the TV screen
Tie a dollar bill around a circus flea
Yo, I agree, with glee, with me

You put your life in the hands of the highway designer
Your stride, an unforeseen side effect
Of the urban planner's realised blueprint dream

You put your life in the hands of the highway designers
Your stride, an unforeseen side effect
Of the urban planner's realised blueprint dream

Our font's bigger than your font
Our font, so straight, so legible
And tall and impenetrable like a fortress
Like a column, a skyscraper
Our font will crush your font
We like our font just fine
One font under God, under God, under God
Under God, under God

Well, it's root, root, root for the home team
Shout like your dad at the TV screen
Tie a dollar bill around a circus flea
The fee to flee what you can't see

You put your life in the hands of the highway designers
Your stride, an unforeseen side effect
Of the urban planner's realised blueprint dream

Well, it's root, root, root for the home team
Shout like your dad at the TV screen
Tie a dollar bill around a circus flea
Yo, I agree, with glee, with me

You put your life in the hands of the highway designers
Your stride, an unforeseen side effect
Of the urban planner's realised blueprint dream



Credits
Writer(s): Andrew Broder, Jonathan Wolf
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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