If there's a message you could hear

I'd swear to God I'd make it clear

I'd tell you how I'm sick and tired

Of how you've got the whole shit wired

By teaching me resent and hate

Towards those the least empow'red of state

As if, for all faults, they're to blame

When I know it's you who runs the game

"Them foreigners look so pitiful" - 'cause they're not

In your motorcade!

Yeah, in your motorcade

It's too much trouble to peek out your windowshade

Your motorcade's

Your little bubble safe from real life's dark parade

If there's a message I could send

That I'd be sure you'd comprehend

It's that your time is up, we're wise

To how you primp and subsidize

The wealthy who make missiles sleek

That grow obsolete in a week

"As long as it makes jobs!" you say

You keep real progress miles away

Like all the riffraff screaming as you're riding

In your motorcade

Yeah, in your motorcade

It's too much trouble to peek out your windowshade

Yeah, your motorcade

Absorbs the rubble tumbled from the mess you made

You motorcade

Is half-enlaid

With tooth-melt gold

To help protect you

Disinfect you

From the fold

That grow two boots

With each blue suit

You make stand guard

Next to your fence

Your bedroom vents

Atop ten motorcycles gliding down each broken boulevard

If there's a message you could know

I swear to God I'd make it glow

In neon lights that line the curbs

As you're escorted through the 'burbs

To bribe folks not to vote you out

Paint demons they can go chew out

And if you only last one term

I'm sure there's some other job to which you can squirm

...About a block down; we'll still drive your ass there

In your motorcade!

Yeah, your motorcade

Your little bubble safe from real life's dark parade

Yeah, your motorcade

Absorbs the rubble tumbled from the mess you made

Yeah, your motorcade

Your little bubble safe from real life's dark parade