We don't know a thing
We have you fooled
But up on our hand leaves
The problem solved

We are artists
We are mathematicians
Some of us hold extremely
high positions

But we are tired
We are hardly breathing
And we are free
Go tell the women that we're leaving

We re sick and tired
Of all this self serving grieving
All we wanted was a little consensual rape in the morning
And maybe a bit more in the evening
We are scientists
We do genetics
We leave religion
To the psychos and fanatics
But we are tired
We got nothing to believe in
We are lost
Go tell the women that we're leaving

We don't know a thing
We're hip to the sound
of six billion people going down
We are magicians
We are deceiving
We're free and we're lost
Go tell the women that we're leaving

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