We don´t wear that uniform; paper men from pages torn right off the press (it could be Tass): suits for the regime. The media´s gone and had a baby.
Seventh wave, another navy. I live in America: gridlock on the street. Tell that girl you like her badge. Tell that man you´re the Nazz. Tell them you´re not the last walking in parade. Dressed to test you up the road. Tighter than the latest clothes. Close the circle, walk in row, walking in parade. Why don´t you walk like me? Walk like me? Walk like me? Carrying the standard stick and marrying the politik. You won´t know tomorrow what went down today. Look at me; I´m in tune: references around my room. Just another secret school, another cycle going by.
You never looked like that. Don´t look like me. Don´t take it back. You never had a name like that, never had a color. Walking like a millionaire. walking on imported air. Change the way you comb your hair and watch what you walk under. Why don´t you walk like me? Walk like me? Walk like me? Walk like me?
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