Bureaucrats in fancy suits
Sitting lofty in wood paneled offices
He’s on his first marriage, fifth affair
Indecisiveness in his life
He can’t think for himself, but he can think for you and me
Life long paid servants of society believe they know what’s best
Sin taxes abound
Soon we will be criminals for thinking for ourselves
Crazed extremist attitudes seem to grow like weeds
What’s next, red meat, eggs
Bad for the public, we know what’s best
Visions of the future hold little choices
Meet a back room dealer for a steak, beer and a smoke
Personal freedom once cherished enough to die for
Seems to be heading the way of the dinosaur
Will spirit whipped humans continue to crawl
Or become outlaws to keep their freedom of choice
Time will tell if we must die
In a control freaks hell