What if one day we just refused to play?
With no one to hate, they'd be out of a job
You've gone off script, you just can't walk away
Leave us naked, fleeced and racked with sobs

Whoa
We're locked in a death grip and it's taking its toll
When our enemies are what make us whole
Listen to me
No more excuses, no more apathy
This ain't no archipelago, no remote atoll

All my enemies, they just fall in love with me
Keeping us distracted while the till gets robbed
All our cries were cried
Now there are no sides
Try selling that one to an angry mob

Whoa
J. Edgar Hoover wore a white mink stole
His enemies are what made him whole
Oh, what made him whole
(His enemies are what made him whole)
Whoa
A three-headed monster swallows Tokyo
Her enemies are what make her whole
(Her enemies are what make her whole)
Whoa
(Our enemies are what make us whole)
We're locked in a death grip and it's taking its toll
When our enemies are what make us whole
(Our enemies are what make us whole)
Whoa
(Our enemies are what make us whole)
No more excuses, no more apathy
This ain't no archipelago, no remote atoll
(Our enemies are what make us whole)
(Our enemies are what make us whole)

Copyright: Wixen Music Publishing
Writer(s): Andrew Wegman Bird