Condescending keeps us gay In a denotative way Noses up and peering down Tight lips pursed into a frown Fleece the rich and cheat the poor That's what this machine is for Turning bellies into stars, then repeating Stab the poor, slice the rich Turn the lever, flip the switch Making everyone the same is the end game Hanging out with old McBean And his grandiose machine No one seems to be annoyed No one sees this as obscene Fleece the rich and cheat the poor That's what this machine is for Turning bellies into stars, then repeating Stab the poor, slice the rich Turn the lever, flip the switch Making everyone the same is the end game She's a gear, you're a cam, I'm a cog She's a gear, you're a cam, I'm a cog This machine was invented by McBean But we all make up the parts Cuts us up and take our hearts She's a gear, you're a cam, I'm a cog She's a gear, you're a cam, I'm a cog This machine was invented by McBean But we all make up the parts Cuts us up and take our hearts