The Sun Never Sets

I remember eagles, I remember bears
Dead by the nineties, and nobody cared
The cold war was over but red, white, and blue
had money to burn and oil to spare

Oh, oh, oh, oh,
I want my money back
Hey, hey, hey,
I want my money back
Hey, hey, hey,
I want my money back
Hey, hey, hey

There's just something about selling
that feels so fucking wrong
You can ask, but we're not telling
Because we wrote this song,
There are stereotypical men in suits
I could have told you all along
Well you and I can talk about monetary pursuit
We both know right from wrong

I want my money back,
hey, hey, hey
I want my money back,
hey, hey, hey
I want my money back,
hey, hey, hey