Oust or crumble, ya gonna crumble?
Tell me what you preach for ?
Preacher man
I'll tell you what ya preach for
Absolutely nothin'

Say hey you white carnivore
Say come here to eat us all
You're some kind of animal
Or just a white male carnivore

With the low pain threshold
You are the glass house throwin stones
You think that you got the finger on the pulse
But you must have a heart made of stone

Like relic
A figure
Some kind of neo classical pillar

The pillar of your sociality have no clarity
smoke and mirrors

Say I'm a white carnivore and I feel everything, Not superior
Say I'm not an animal
No, I'm a white male carnivore

With the low pain threshold
Am I a glass house throwin stones
I don't think I've got the finger on the pulse
And I just can't cry cause I'm made of stone

I'm a relic I'm a figure
like a neo classical pillar
(take it down)

Those relics those figures
Crumblin' neo-classical pillars

They're gonna crumble, I'll watch you crumble

Imperialist, in provincial towns, pledging allegiance to the pound
Feel they've been robbed.

He's got the whole wide world in his hand
He's got the whole wide world in his hand
He's got the whole wide world in his hand
He's got the whole wide world in his hand
Got everyone here in his hands

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): ELLIOT SCOTT RAWSON, OLIVER HENRY BURSLEM, VINCENT DAVIES