Everybody stomp your feet to the bourgeois boogie
Extend your line of credit for the imitation gold-leaf Louis Quatorze chair
Pony up your mortgage for some new wheels; it's your duty
Just disregard the future: Throw your hands up in the air
Like you don't care
You're not all there, but you got your share
Brother, I got mine, but you don't look so fine
But I ain't gonna mind; I'll pretend (Not to know)
For whom the bell tolls while I'm rolling in my rolls
I can't imagine a day when this could ever end
You're not all there, but you got your share
And you don't care where it comes from
Everybody stomp your feet to the bourgeois boogie
Adopt an unexamined moral stance that you can blindly impose
On everybody else to obtain your bag of booty
And never have to wonder if your grubbing paws are crushing some toes
Like you don't care
You're not all there, but you got your share
And you don't care where it comes from
Here's the church & here's the steeple, A wolf to tend the flocks of sheep all
Busy baah-baah-buying up new things to possess
Every shiny object is to amass and collect
Don't you worry that the wolf's got your address
You're not all there, but you got your share
And you don't care where it comes from
Everybody stomp your feet to the bourgeois boogie
Don't let your lack of contribution interfere with all your rampant consumption
Embrace the mediocre and the mundane, it's your duty
To justify your avarice and intellectual vacuum
Like you don't care
You're not all there, but you got your share
And you don't care where it will end