Dance of the Headless Bourgeoisie

Listen man, never mind who this is

We've got your wife

Yea, your better half, your partner in life

You'll find her Volvo abandoned at the mall

Her credit cards are in the trunk

We don't want that junk

We want the money, and we want it in cash

Cause there are ten sticks of dynamite stuck togethe with duct tape

They're wrapped around her new perm, strapped around her little face

So don't do anything funny, man, don't do anything smart, or we'll

Blow up her head

Listen man, we've got your son

Yea, your one and only heir

The scion of your loins the chosen one e picked him up oft the playing field

You'll get bis short pants by priority mail

We need sonne cash to finance our political aims

Put it in your work-out bag and leave it at the gym

Cause there are ten sticks of dynamitestuck together with duct tape

They're wrapped around his little skull just to stop the constant snivelling

And it we don't hear from you by tomorrow, we'II

Blow up his head

We've got your daughter, that's right

Daddy's little girl, the light of your life

And all we want is every penny you've saved

Empty out your retirement fund and put it in an old suitcase

How do you know we've got her?

We'II send you her little pinkie

You can shove it up your ass and call it stinky

Cause there are ten sticks of dynamite wrapped around her golden locks

And only you have the power to make this stop

And if we don't get everything that we want, we'II

Blow up her head

Forget it man

We're coming after you

We have no political beliefs

We don't want your fucking money

There's just one thing that motivates us

We hate your fucking guts

There are ten sticks of dynamite waiting for you

They'll cover your eyes

They'll muffle your ears

They'll shut your fucking mouth

They'll

Blow up your head