I’ve got no time to define my moral thought process
Much less defend against your allegations
I’m inclined to divide against the circumstance
Add the rights, subtracting popular opinion
I’m the dead skin hanging off the underbelly
Of a scene that’s past its prime
Now I wonder am I the only person
Out here laughing ‘till they cry?

Take your politics and rhetoric
Stack them neatly on the floor
Now, sit and spin
Sit and spin
Sit and spin

When you’re chanting and screaming
And it turns into a bleating
You got to think for yourself or you’re no better than them

Nameless faces hang around outside the shows
Head-to-toe they dress the part of revolution
Cut-to-fit, the kids all seem to make me sick
They’ve learned their slogans well and they know how to use them
Whatever happened to the degeneration
Of mindless conformity
And since when did we start celebrating anything other than flaws?

Take your rules and laws and dress codes
Stack them neatly on the floor
Now, sit and spin
Sit and spin
Sit and spin

Being punk on the surface defeats the fucking purpose
By its own definition it was never meant to be owned
It was never meant to be owned
It was never meant to be owned
It was never meant to be owned

Well, your ideals are boring and it’s still fucking conforming
When you label yourself the outside; sit and spin