Call to arms against the normless social effigy 
nailed to metaphoric cross for signs of anomie 
Bathe now son, in bastard's blood
now dripping from his cheek 
We define the deviance
and he's the enemy 

He had it coming 
He was different 
Kick his head in

He had it coming 
He was different 
Kick his head in

Fall in line behind the prophet of disparaging
Raised onto a pedestal for crushing vermin's dreams
Graze now son, in fruitful fields
that tend your every need
we live with abundance
while the rats are chewing seeds

He had it coming 
He was different 
Kick his head in

He had it coming 
He was different 
Kick his head in