They pull our strings 
The animals 
They blind, they breed the hate 
Under their wing 
We’re scientists 
We swallow what they think 

For all you lonely boys 
I will be president 
In all you sons of men 
I can be accident 

Most fall in line 
They do the dance 
And salute the safest thing 
Bought with their lives 
Cry and socialize 
And throw all the beauty away 

For all you lonely boys 
I will be president 
In all you sons of men 
I can be accident