Speak of heroes
You're swift to nominate them
Oh, darling be a sacrificial lamb

Oh, poor boys fighting peasants in foreign lands

How loudly you praise them

Oh, but where were you then?
Off dancing with your debutante
Her skin is soft and warm

But her eyes are cold and dead

It serves the greedy well

To say men's hearts are dark
But I believe there'll be a light that shines
Which now is just a spark


No gods, no masters
No kings nor their court jesters

No gods, no masters
No kings nor their court jesters
Bury the last

Sons of avarice

Tell the teachers and nurses and soldiers

They must be lazy and/or dumb
While you, you earn a hundred to one
Oh, but don't you $#&@ing utter the word

Meritocracy

So what's our priorities

With people or markets being free
I hear Sudan is a dusty place
And every day a few less black faces


It serves the greedy well
To say men's hearts are dark

But I believe there'll be a light that shines
Which now is just a spark


No gods, no masters
No kings nor their court jesters
No gods, no masters

No kings nor their court jesters
Bury the last
Sons of avarice


No gods, no masters
No kings nor their court jesters

No gods, no masters
No kings nor their court jesters
Bury the last

Sons of avarice