Condescending keeps us gay
In a denotative way
Noses up and peering down
Tight lips pursed into a frown

Fleece the rich and cheat the poor
That's what this machine is for
Turning bellies into stars, then repeating
Stab the poor, slice the rich
Turn the lever, flip the switch
Making everyone the same is the end game

Hanging out with old mcbean
And his grandiose machine
No one seems to be annoyed
No one sees this as obscene

Fleece the rich and cheat the poor
That's what this machine is for
Turning bellies into stars, then repeating
Stab the poor, slice the rich
Turn the lever, flip the switch
Making everyone the same is the end game

She's a gear, you're a cam, I'm a cog
She's a gear, you're a cam, I'm a cog
This machine was invented by mcbean
But we all make up the parts
Cut us up and take our hearts