It's 2 AM and I wanna go home
But I'm stuck in a mob and everybody's stoned
We're fighting for the weak and the poor
By flailing around to the same three chords

I'm so tired of fighting the man
This mosh pit is the last I can stand
And I don't think that I'm gonna last
'Cause this here government could kick all our asses

I don't see how this party's gonna change a thing
Chuck Taylor just kicked me in the face

Thrown backward out of the angry mob
Start to feeling like a music snob
This song sounds like it's from '82
But we're all screaming like we hear something new

I'm so tired of fighting the man
This mosh pit is the last I can stand
And I don't think that I'm gonna last
'Cause this here government could kick all our asses

Can't tell if this band agrees with Friedman or John Keynes
Suppose that they're firm believers only in cocaine

So stand up on a stage 'cause you wanna make a change
But the politicians play a game and say they'll do the same thing
You sit down, your words get drowned out, they give their friends handouts and kowtow
To John D. Rockefeller, even though he's dead
Yeah his money's more important than anything you said
So you try to blow the whistle on this national disgrace, but all are busy counting freckles on Lindsay Lohan's face