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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