Say goodbye to the winter and say goodbye to the chill, it’s summertime now, so toss the pigeons your pills
Take your tourniquet off and wash the dirt from your face now that the weather is warm in this unpleasant place
The fireworks are just, just exploding in the air, starting countless brush-fires everywhere

And the people are smiling and the people are glad
Singing harmonious hymns about the latest fads
And the people are smiling and the people are gay and they’re burning an effigy down at the bay
And the people are smiling and those people are us, and the children are playing with something hit by the bus

But the word on the street is that people are meat
And the flies start to swarm in the sweltering heat
And you’ll fight off the flies on the fourth of July
You’ll be crowned the lord of the flies for a taste of that prize

The grandmothers riot down at the bingo hall while grandfather practices his mating call
The flocks tally and rally and sheer the wool from the shepherds, and the priests and the popes are making out with the lepers
The junkies and fiends are holding scented silk roses, sniffing government subsidized tweak up their noses

The spiders start spinning affixed to their digital webs and the baby chicks hatch from polypropylene eggs
Greenpeace builds playgrounds from reclaimed bombed-out cars, for the less fortunate children down at the hotel bars
The music is writ in standard four-four time, to keep the people smiling in the farewell line

But the word on the street is that people are meat
And the flies start to swarm in the sweltering heat
And you’ll fight off the flies on the fourth of July
You’ll be crowned the lord of the flies for a taste of that prize

All your dreams can be crushed down at the nightmare store, where the red white and blue start a second Gulf War
The robot Gandhi fights the zombie Winston Churchill to be the next star in the ranch dressing commercial
Darwin’s just laughing deep down in his tomb, while the farm fresh select keep popping out of the womb

Now say farewell to the chills and hills and automobiles, soon the people will be eating their fill
Keep your enemies close, but keep your butcher closer, cuz she’s in cahoots with your local grocer
So please take a number and take a seat if you will, we’ll process your order down at the old saw mill

But the word on the street is that people are meat
And the flies start to swarm in the sweltering heat
And you’ll fight off the flies on the fourth of July
You’ll be crowned the lord of the flies
You’ll be crowned the lord of the flies
You’ll be crowned the lord of the flies
For a taste of that prize