Sorry we're open
Come in, we're closed
I'm warming the raclette oven
I said, come in, we're clothed
It was great talking to you
Having nothing to say
But now that that's been said
Go fuck away
My guitar like a kalashnikov
My bass drum like a bazooka
Pick up your artillery
In the midst of defeat
And if I'm gonna raise my voice
It's my weapon of choice
The end of entertainment
Is the beginning of war
My guitar, my guitar
I'm cursing in ointment
Hear me snorting a symphony
Every flatulence an opera
Every drop of sweat an elegy
Create something out of nothing (My guitar)
I'm faking a highlight, I could
My fingerprints in mass production (My guitar)
A pubic hair nailed to a piece of wood
My guitar like a kalashnikov
My bass drum like a bazooka
Pick up your artillery
In the midst of defeat
And if I'm gonna crack my voice
Because it is my weapon of choice
The end of entertainment
Is the beginning of war
My guitar, my guitar
I don't know where I'm going
So everybody follow me
I don't know where I'm going
So everybody follow me
I don't know where I'm going
So everybody follow me
If I knew where I was going
I wouldn't want you to come with me
My guitar like a kalashnikov
My bass drum like a bazooka
Pick up your artillery
In the midst of defeat
And if I'm gonna raise my voice
Because it is my weapon of choice
The end of entertainment
Is the beginning of war
My guitar, my guitar
