Artist Pearl Jam
All my rivals will see what I have in store My gun I've been harboring fleets in
this reservoir Red sun And this nation's about to explode Your disciples are
riddled with metaphors Well-hung Better pony up and bring both your barrelfulls
Not one As we release this unspeakable toll How's our mother to damn these
contributors With mud? How will the man who made chemicals difficult Shed blood?
How's our father supposed to be told?