You've got bourgeois aspirations I've got proletariat affectations I'm all white, t-shirt, and beer In front of one of Moses Neimer's TV stations Well you don't even have a TV You like Bjork and Oasis You're not smart enough for Shakespeare But him and not the big merchant menace is racist Now that the truth is out I hate it, you first I don't get sloppy when I screw I don't howl at the moon I don't bungee jump, skydive, swim, drive, hang glide, or fly to Cancun Well maybe that's my problem I'm too scared to come undone I'm too upside Protestant Middle class white boy to have any real fun So now that the truth's come out I hate it, you first Well you asked for my phone number So you could not call me on purpose You think I'm hard up, insecure, low on self esteem Well maybe on the surface Now that the truth is out I hate it, you first You say you hate me now But baby, I hate it, you first I hate it, you first I hate it, you first