With the children out to play the eldest daughter fornicatesnTaking sips of alcohol to glorify the change in hernThe youngest son of the richest man is the only one who gives a damnnAnd not a soul will ever know that the rumors spread were by his ownnnThe oldest harp in the newest town plays angelic notes for the devil's crowdnThus not a soul will pay any mind to the soldiers lighting up the nightnnGive us drinks, give us girls, give us shots at the barnGive us homes, give wives, give us practical carsnnBlasphemy he screams at her but she doesn't hear a single wordnFather, please, just let it be. The fuckin' war is over! Your fuckin' war is over!nBlasphemy she screams at her but she doesn't hear a single wordnMother, please, monogamy is overrated baby!nnWatch these titans scream at the top of their lungs writhing from the flames on the tips of their tonguesnGive us drinks, give us girls, give us shots at the barnGive us homes, give us wives, give us practical carsnWatch these titans scream at the top of their lungs writhing from the flames on the tips of their tonguesnGive us drugs, give us love, give us terrible highsnGive us guns, give us gold, give us 4-letter knivesnnWith the cradle in the barn the farmer's daughter speaks her heartnLaying waste to all he's taught her; making claims he never thought she wouldnnThey're singin', screamin' tell me monogamy is over(rated)nRated for your sickest pleasuren(They're singin', screamin' tell me monogamy is over(rated) for your sickest pleasure)nWe're singin', screamin' pleasure: the muted feeling after we supply a former lover with saliva from anothern(We're singin', screamin' pleasure: the muted feeling after we defy a former lover)