Complain, by King’s X

I love this band. They’re from Houston, but have played all over the world.

They’ve been named by their musician peers among the 100 Great Rock Bands of the 20th century, in Rolling Stone magazine.

They’ve all spoken openly about their personal faith, although they reject labeling as a Christian band.

Whenever I get a little put upon by the first-world problems of my comfortable, privileged life, I just turn on “Complain” and King’s X helps me regain my perspective.

Ozone disappearing in the sky.
Bud man asking us “why ask why?”
If I could find my magazine this bug would die.
I complain.

China boy standing up to a tank.
Southern boy living in the house of yanks.
I can’t seem to get my motorbike to crank.
I complain.

Complain so much easier.
Complain so much easier.
Complain so much
Easier.

Small kid begging for a crumb of bread.
Next kid bloated, lying nearly dead.
I wonder what to take for my aching head.
I complain.

Lots of people crying for a little rain.
Whole nation learning how to live with pain.
I don’t know how I’m gonna clean this little stain.
I complain.

Complain so much easier.
Complain so much easier.
Complain so much
Easier.

Black man singing Mississippi blues.
Africa starves, a little baby drools.
I’m trying to figure out all these basketball rules.
I complain.

Mr. Rush Limbaugh giving me the facts.
Treetops falling and the newsman yaks.
I’m thinking about Carter and how I’m gonna be taxed.
Hey.

Complain so much easier.
Complain so much easier.
Complain so much
Easier.