From my mothers womb
Out into the war
No more silver spoons
No more open doors
Just dog eating dog
Trying to survive
May your shortcomings be justified..
Well into our prime
We skew what's left of time
You can dominate your hive
If you work until the day that you die..
But I am not a bee
And you are not my queen
I'm one with everything.
Money makes soldiers
Soldiers they make war
War creates money
So the greedy can gorge..
Now there's blood on your hands from putting gas into cars
Tell me what you think about this capitalist antfarm of ours
You can tell me that I'm crazy then..
Message to the grind – you're running out of time
In your place – at the back of the line
Bombs and guns and television..
Killing their imagination..
Money and manipulation..
Price tag on our generation..
Bombs and guns and television
Killing their imagination
Doing what you're told puts a pricetag on the soul
But I can't live that way
I would rather die than fit the mould..
Money gives orders – so off you go to war
Nothing but comfort as the bombs start to fall..
When all of the kids are missing legs and arms
Tell me what you think about this capitalist antfarm of ours
You can tell me that I'm crazy then..
And if you tell me you don't feel a thing
I'll tell you that you're crazy again..
Out into the war
No more silver spoons
No more open doors
Just dog eating dog
Trying to survive
May your shortcomings be justified..
Well into our prime
We skew what's left of time
You can dominate your hive
If you work until the day that you die..
But I am not a bee
And you are not my queen
I'm one with everything.
Money makes soldiers
Soldiers they make war
War creates money
So the greedy can gorge..
Now there's blood on your hands from putting gas into cars
Tell me what you think about this capitalist antfarm of ours
You can tell me that I'm crazy then..
Message to the grind – you're running out of time
In your place – at the back of the line
Bombs and guns and television..
Killing their imagination..
Money and manipulation..
Price tag on our generation..
Bombs and guns and television
Killing their imagination
Doing what you're told puts a pricetag on the soul
But I can't live that way
I would rather die than fit the mould..
Money gives orders – so off you go to war
Nothing but comfort as the bombs start to fall..
When all of the kids are missing legs and arms
Tell me what you think about this capitalist antfarm of ours
You can tell me that I'm crazy then..
And if you tell me you don't feel a thing
I'll tell you that you're crazy again..
envoyé par giorgio - 26/1/2013 - 14:02
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Album: Demo's- Album Coming Soon!
"No band of freaky wierdo's is complete without an anti-capitalism rant!
Fuck the system!