Texty: Get Up Kids. There Are Rules. Tithe.

You've got the dirty bones
And I've got nothing to wash them with
But after we sing this song
I've got so little left
I've got less
Oh, how the collar's strong
The links disintegrate one by one
Just pull the yoke along
Cause I've got nothing to tithe

Like I have promised I would do
Still I am at fault
Take this paltry advantage that is due
Before you taint your soul

You've got the gold throne
And I've got the broken hands
You've got the gold throne
And I've got nothing to tithe

Like I have promised I would do
Still I am at fault
Take this paltry advantage that is due
Before you taint your soul
I tithe like I have promised I would do
Still I am at fault