un peit peu de musique avec la pub

Force fed more than we’d eat in the wild
Grazed on a mash that could suffocate a child
Bloated, promoted in an ode to pomp and style
Moistening in the feed while we choke upon the bile
Cornering the market on the geese without the bones
Hushing out the public in a strike without a drone
The cage became collapsable
Our sticks equipped with stones

[Refrain]
Get the mother fucker on the phone, the phone
Get the mother fucker on the phone, the phone
Get the mother fucker on the phone, the phone
Get the mother fucker on the phone, the phone
Get the mother fucker on the phone, the phone
[Chorus]
Hello, motherfucker
My lover
You saw it coming

[Verse 2]
Set aside the scruples in a stratagem of strain
A smallpox-laden blanket, invisible with stains
Inoculating bastards, bloody pecked pain
Distemper has a hold, distemper has a hold
We took the second sip from a cup we made of bones
The first it was a ruse, a trick, so aptly thrown
The truth is that our youth was a carpet laid in stones

[Refrain]
Get the mother fucker on the phone, the phone

[Chorus]
Hello, motherfucker
My lover
You saw it coming
Goodbye, motherfucker
My lover
You had it coming

[Refrain]
Get the mother fucker on the phone
Get the mother fucker on the phone
Get the mother fucker on the phone
Get the mother fucker on the phone