Gonna lob a grenade your way 'Cause when I drop bombs I don't like to look you in the face And that's the game that we always play So, baby, don't complain about the meal that you find on your plate You've got your convictions And I've got my opinions You've got your religion And I've got my cynicism Gonna lob a grenade your way 'Cause when I drop bombs I don't like to look you in the face And that's the game that we always play So, baby, don't complain about the meal that you find on your plate You've got your news sources And I've got my thesaurus And we rage like Tyrannosaurus And we spook like deer in the forest Gonna lob a grenade your way 'Cause when I drop bombs I don't like to look you in the face And that's the game that we always play So, baby, don't complain about the meal that you find on your plate About the meal that you find on your plate About the meal that you find on your plate About the meal that you find on your plate