Get up from the table and just walk away There's nothing for me anyway No reason that I should stay Where's the place at the table for folks like me? There's not one that I can see Not one I can see Used to be nothing sweeter than the signals it could send The musical hand it could lend Could be a lonely man's best friend Where's the place at the table for folks like them? Do you not want what they can spend? Where's your place for them? Now don't tell me that you don't see these things all sideways I wish that you might one day see things my way I know what you say, you say you serve the youth You serve them Bizkits and Korn with a spoon But I think you just serve you Where's the place at the table for folks like us When there's no one that we can trust? Where's the place for us? Now don't tell me that you don't see these things all sideways I hope that you might one day see these things my way That's my rant, I bet it don't make a dent I waste all these little laments And wait for accidents So go on buy it all, buy it all and sell it off The towers, the meters, the speakers, the knobs Send it back to God Just don't tell me that you don't see these things all sideways And don't tell me that I might one day see things your way We should kick your ass from here to Friday Then maybe you might one day see these things my way