Genealogy of Morons

Meathead syndrome,
No goals, no control.

The light, the time
It’s in my mind,

Oh fine,
Won’t be polite
Some lines
Have not progressed in Mind

Meathead syndrome,
No goals, no control,
Meathead syndrome,
No cure,
Not attuned to be here
Oh leave here.

The light, the time
It’s in my mind,

oh fine,
won’t be polite
Some lines
Have no progressive in Mind

Ha ha ha ha ah ah ha
Foul-foul-foul-foul-foul-foul
Bodies they build, but why
When brains decrease in size

No mention of a thought in spite
Unbinding head n mind,
So no surprise
No cure for these fools, in this life
No cure for these fools, in this life

Go meat head,
Go meat head,
Go meat head

You’re so macho, you’re so right
Feedin’ the cancer and your demise

So macho, always right
Plays to your cancer and your demise

Feedin’ the cancer and your demise
Your demise it’s time

Feedin’ the cancer
You take us down each time

In time you’ll find,
They’ve lost their minds
No cure
For you and me, my dear

HmHmHahahahaha hah

One
Truth
Needs
More

Got a syndrome, called love
Got a syndrome, called love
Got a syndrome, called L-O-V-E

Multiply, Multiply, Multiply, Multiply.