We Are All Compost in Training

I want freedom, not a boss

That comes in a forty ounce bottle of anything

Or taped scotch paper

I eat meat and drive trucks and shoot guns and don’t trust

In the federal government to solve our problems

You might think I’m joking, but I’m not a republican

Call me when your president pulls out of Afghanistan

'Cause that’s the day I’ll get a cell phone number

And you can call and leave a message on voice mail that day

I fell asleep smoking so I’d wake up on fire

'Cause that might get me out of bed for a while

And back into battle with the things that I breathe

And the holes in my arms, and the way that I think

And if freedom is doing what I want, well that means

I gotta know what that is, not just what it isn’t

So I’ll dig up the dirt and I’ll throw down some seeds

'Cause the world needs more spinach

Not more motherfuckers like me

Motherfuckers like me!