Nothing succeeds quite as well as success
Self-evident, sure, but it's true
Time to dig out of this unholy mess
Turn to a page colored blue
A slight reprieve from the folks that repress
So many standing in awe
Feel like a pawn in a cruel game of chess
And I still can't believe what I saw
<chorus>
A fickle public, a sick republic
To the victor go the spoiled
A fickle public, sick republic
Tiger in a corner tightly coiled
Hate's on the run, clutching bible and gun
Tho' I'd not count it out of the game
Time's gonna tell if the old regime's done
Or we're just in for more of the same
'cause it's a fickle public, a sick republic
Nothing exceeds quite like wretched excess
Greed's still as strong as it's been
Find me a preacher or priest who can bless
With religion, you're gonna get sin
Nothing recedes with the House in recess
Floodwaters still gonna rise
Couldn't care less about freedom of press
When the debt's climbing up past your eyes
<chorus>