Sidewinder

I consume everything the world shoves in my face
I drink, I eat, I live it
And it is not my choice
No more cracking voice, yeah

Unicorns and trolley cars
Blinds checks and dollar cards
Get your nuts out of your bank account
The hunt is on (the hunt is on, the hunt is on, the hunt is on)

You shoot a grenade
Out of your flames
Like a plumber from a clogged drain
Variety is the spice of death
In a corrupted strain
Like a fat man on a plane

Well there's no trust fund, kids
Can't find the money kin
On the lips of the stolen wind
Stand in line like cows, I repeat
Stand in line like cows

And snort like fucking sows
Remember, boss, remember
The world go 'round for the both of us
The both of us

Well, it's a seventh-inning stretch, huh?
Stand up, stretch it out
Cut me like a bone saw
It's an unwritten law

And the world still goes 'round
For the both of us
For the both of us