F#m                     D             
Well I'm a member of the generation Pentium mind
       A                  E
post-Columbine kids we practice standing in line
         F#m                            D
I could hear the whistles blowin' at the degree factory
       A              A
You better know your role
     F#m                     D    
Paranoia kicks his shoes off and he settles in
       A                                     E 
Can't have a conversation without my head spinning
        F#m                     D    
To the beat of the dark money metronome
      A                               A
The scattered tempo will arrest your soul
   F#m          D               A                E
I brake for analogies on this road to cure a complimentary disease of the 
F#m
heart
            D                        A                     E
Provided at no extra charge by the liars spread by their whores
F#                Dmaj7
Cancer costs a bit more
      F#m                            D    
Half full or half empty man its no concern
           A                           E
When the glass is smashed and you got nothing to learn
 F#m                     D    
Come off your pedestal digress from your post
          A              A
Obey the posters on the wall
     F#m                        D    
Her goosebumps are whispering a secret to me
        A                          E
While logic's condescending on my fantasies
 F#m                           D    
Searching for Atlantis in the thick of a storm
 A                    E
Capsize with the Montengards
 F#m         D    
Well I can't go it alone
             A                    E
But i don't need the approval of the megaphone
            F#m                   D
Because the voice behind's got a plan of his own
    A       E     F#  Dmaj7 
To play me for a fool
      F#m                     D    
Even Ceaser can share some empathy
          A                     E
For the Fourth Estate's brutal murder atrocity
      F#m                 D
They tasted the blade of the Laissez-sword
        A                   A
And it burned when it went down
      F#m                           D    
The weathermen are telling me that I'd better scramble
           A                            E
There's a storm on the brink that the levies won't handle
   F#m                         D
Opportunity's door is neither open or shut
       A                A
It's rusted and propped ajar
   F#m         D               A                E
I brake for analogies on this road to cure a complimentary disease
    F#m                    D    
My power is listed at the top of the screen
    A       E     F#  Dmaj7
So play me for a fool