These tin men are no nonsense Not the happiest thing They make the call between black and white And what grey is born in between And they say kids your age should Be reaching for the streetlights While banking on their reproductive organs And the work weeks guiding light And they say kids your age should Be reaching for the streetlights While banking on their reproductive organs And the work weeks guiding light This is a bound and tired Oath/anthem of our aged An approximate and fearful Wild of hooks to belt from caged By bills+bills+bills then will Till nerve-ed and onenamed You thief the you that nothing can pill tame And sleep the sleep of Cured kill refrain These tin men are no nonsense Not the happiest thing They make the call between black and white And what grey is born in between And they say kids your age should Be reaching for the streetlights While banking on their reproductive organs And the work weeks guiding light These tin men are no nonsense...