Miserable Misers

Well, they must get some pleasure From suffering and greed Abuse is a leisure To sate their own twisted needs And what would it matter To burn us all When chaos is your call And you're a slave driver And a miserable miser Blind to the pleading And deaf to the sane There is clear lack of meaning To the blatant disdain And what would it matter To burn us all When chaos is your call And you're a slave driver And a miserable miser Well, they'd sell all you souls For a piece of power Melt all of your minds For just one more hour No depth of depravity To which they would not fall Are we fools One and all Obeying slave drivers And miserable misers Slave drivers And miserable misers Oh, they are miserable, mumbling, bumbling fools Murderers, masochists, monsters, and mules Malevolent, misogynist, with misaligned minds Myopic, macabre, with militant binds They are miserable misers Miserable misers