Tourettes - John Key's Son's A DJ lyrics

[Intro] [Verse 1] It's a weekday in our clean green banana republic In the shadow of million dollar villas Barefoot kids walk to school along dead-end motorways Cardboard days filled with empty stomachs Let them eat instant noodles Welcome to New Zealand Brought to you by SkyCity and the good people at Anadarko Our gracious leader Like a George Bush light He tells me there's a part time job Waiting for everyone at the milk powder factory He tells me we have a rockstar economy Like the fat guy from The Feelers on a coke binge He tells me global warming's not so bad We might never have Australia's economy But at least we got bush fires now And the media stands impotent Seagulls parroting his f**ing nonsense And the headlines read: John Key's son's a DJ [Verse 2] Everything must go National parks, state houses, our sovereignty We have to fund the new flag Pay tribute the Monsanto empire And give tax breaks to silver spoon socialites Half the country voted against their interest So maybe they're really into sh**ty wages And helping rich people realise their dilettante dreams There's fool's gold in them hills And oil on them beaches A backwater twilight zone Where Nikki Kaye's a feminist Cameron Slater's a journalist And John Key's son's a DJ [Verse 3] We are now in the twenty-fourth year of the oil wars And the National government wants you to play the fool In the theatre of war So they can be an extra on the world stage Client state Glorified McDonalds franchises Ass end of the world No m**ms ever called me dole bludger I vote we send the All Blacks to Iraq Who's with me? And as the old saying goes: John Key's son's a DJ [Verse 4] And when did rioting and looting become uncool? I'm getting old And what about f**ing what's his name Trying to have a battle of wits with Eleanor Catton Like watching a poodle fighting a Wolverine The rise of the short poppy Where our country becomes a company And higher education doesn't mean getting hired into occupation And intellectual is a four letter word And John Key's son's a DJ [Verse 5] The last time I checked my privilege it was still there No ideality politics Singing the white man's blues I woke up this morning and had an existential crisis If I don't eat lamb, watch rugby And blame the poor for my sh**ty life Do I even exist? The neoliberal dream wanders aimless through dead gra** Strip mines and strip malls In piss stained Calvin Klein y-fronts Muttering news speak like a dying patriarch The prime minister's son The heir apparent Playing Lorde remixes in the VIP of a burning building [Outro]