Sell the kids for food.
Weather changes moods.
Spring is here again.
Reproductive glands.

And he's the one who likes all our pretty songs,
And he likes to sing along,
And he likes to shoot his gun,
But he don't know what it means.
Knows not what it means and I say...
And he's the one who likes all our pretty songs,
And he likes to sing along,
And he likes to shoot his gun,
But he don't know what it means.
Knows not what it means and I say, yeah...

We can have some more.
Nature is a whore.
Booze is all the fruit.
Tender age in bloom.

And he's the one who likes all our pretty songs,
And he likes to sing along,
And he likes to shoot his gun,
But he don't know what it means.
Knows not what it means and I say...
And he's the one who likes all our pretty songs,
And he likes to sing along,
And he likes to shoot his gun,
But he don't know what it means.
Knows not what it means and I say, yeah...

And he's the one who likes all our pretty songs,
And he likes to sing along,
And he likes to shoot his gun,
But he knows not what it means.
Knows not what it means and I say...
He's the one who like all our pretty songs,
And he likes to sing along,
And he likes to shoot his gun,
But he knows not what it means.
Knows not what it means,
Knows not what it means,
Knows not what it means and I say, yeah...