Drop a dime we'll get that ace,
We rewind those tapes he places on those news shows.
But all we got is a phonograph,
And it's idealize he's a-pushing to our door.

You're caught and naked,
You cannot have your way.
You will not make it,
And you will so dearly pay.

How does it feel to live in fear?
Now you're hot and broke, and peers are something new.
It's nice to hear you're not so bold,
Soon the cheers will fly, when we blow cold your play.

Now we're so wrecking up your life, we got to,
Combat's not something that is working out for you.

You better keep your ass in gear,
If you're fartin' smoke, your queers will spy on you.
We want to hear you're dead and cold,
So the smears and lies, will now grow old the fray.

We just want to see your face,
Your behind's been to some places; forgot your crew.
But all we hear is a phonograph,
You should realize you're not coming back no more.