Your Problem

Progress
Progress
Which kind of leaves a question

From what?
To where?

Lord spare me from idiots wrapped
Snug in their radical politics

All their ideals smelling so sweet
Still kept in the boxes they bought them in

Lord spare me from charlatan cheats
Who went down to the old cowboy store

And put on all the white hats
Like that's some kind of fucking argument winner

Progress
Progress
Which kind of leaves a question

From what?
To where?
Back to the playground

And your problem is you're all cunts
And while you put on an impressive front
Of understanding the ways of the world
And maybe even having slept with a girl

Yeah the truth is I can see right through
Because I used to think just like you
Back when I was an adolescent
But since then I've learnt a couple of lessons

That your intentions are beside the point
It's the outcome of your actions that count
If your intentions are pure when you fuck me
I'll still get the STDs

Lord spare me from idiots wrapped
Snug in their radical politics

All their ideals smelling so sweet
Still kept in the boxes they bought them in

All animals are equal but some are pigs
All animals are equal but some are pigs, so much pigs
All animals are equal but some are pigs
All animals are equal but some are pigs, so much pigs
All animals are equal but some are pigs
All animals are equal but some are pigs, so much fucking pigs



Credits
Writer(s): Frank Turner, Ben Dawson, Matt Nasir
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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