Order in the court; the judge is half-asleep.

We made him listen for a while, but now we’ve gone too deep.

He says he has his limits, and we can’t ask for the moon,

And if we raise our voices, he will have to clear the room.

He knows that we’re upset, and that we have a right to speak,

He knows to our eyes, our futures seem a little bleak.

He says that life is simple if you just do as you’re told,

But if you break the rules, then you’ll be left out in the cold.

Order in the court; the judge is off his meds.

I don’t think he’s listened to a single word we’ve said.

He says that those who wronged us must someday be made to pay,

But he wants to go to lunch soon, and we’re getting in his way.

He says that it might help to throw our enemies a bone.

If we didn’t act so strange, they’d leave us well alone.

So can we really blame them if they kick us in the face?

We’d have a happy life if we just knew our fucking place.

Order in the court; the judge has gone away.

He says he knows of better ways in which to spend his day.

He says he doesn’t have the time to listen to us whine.

He says that if we looked around, we’d see that things are fine.

He says we’re clearly bitter, that we’re weak and full of hate,

And if we don’t count our blessings, we might soon find it’s too late.

He says we’re unattractive when we’re spewing out our bile.

He’ll punch us in the mouth, and then he’ll order us to smile.