Out of the playground's ashes
Come little men with little games
They're playing war
They're planning new crusades like new arcades
The reason for the season is to flood the media
With suicidal mania
And paint this landscape with this human waste
So lets all sing a song of love
Lets sing sing sing sing
Sing until our throats bleed
And if this child could sing he would say
I don't need anybody
I don't need anyone
I don't need your guidance home
Watch as I build my empire
Watch as I rise and fall
Watch as I fight all alone
History's a stage for re-runs
For 3 A.M. insomniacs who quote the episodes
If tricycles came with guns we'd all be safe
Little green men didn't come from outer space
With coupons in the Sunday Paper
They came from corporate brains