What you do is what you are And wishing upon distant stars Won't improve the hole you're in Won't absolve your deepest sin But action is no gift from some covert and lofty god It's dependent and weighty all the same And it's oh so easy just to keep to yourself But then you're at the mercy of imbeciles Now I didn't make up the rules But clearly we are led by fools It is wise to know their ways So you know how not to behave But sometimes we find ourselves in desperate need And we look to those with privilege and power It's then we learn compassion sits inert on their shelves And we're at the mercy of imbeciles No, action is no gift from some masked spirit in the sky It's reducible to flesh, the mind, and bone And it is oh so easy just to keep to yourself But then you're at the mercy of imbeciles Imbeciles Imbeciles Imbeciles