Oh my god it's raining again And a 7-year-old anarchist i My Subs LP is still brand-new But what does it matter? There's nothing I can do Great big
There's a hole at the bottom of the earth Where the blood pours out at the end of the day When the usual amount of people have died Sit back and watch
No I don't believe in Jesus Christ My mother died of cancer when I was 5 No I don't believe in religion I was forced to go to church, I wasn't told
All is quiet all is dead The city has melted The sound has penetrated Through our heads The world has ended the gas is gone It killed the people
Ashtray dirt Your lungs have got a dirty stain All you feel's a cancer pain Fingers turned a sticky yellow color Every one fag is less one hour of
FUCK YOU, will be message number one with several clever jabs to follow that one so sit there smirking you waste of skin this time we've seen enough,
I put on my clothes, They make me look dull, I dont think about it, I dont think at all, I dress high class, It makes me look high paid, You know I'll
Our society what a drag Another nervous breakdown another fag You can t get to sleep cos you lost your pills And the protein tablets make you ill Our
Flowers that decay on the graves that are fresh The problem got buried alongside the flesh The contamination of body and soul By nuclear waste dumped
We are all controlled by reinforcement or rules Passed by those who are merely the tools of a system Where achievement is based on deceit of the masses
Okay let's start at the beginning When fishes roamed the sea They swam around before anything else In ten million years B.C. Then one day they decided
A combination of work and rest Keeps your head in a total mess Just like we're all supposed to be A part of this sick society Where they give you a rest
[Chorus:] So much money where does it all come from? We re paying for democracy never mind the bomb So much money what does it do? It puts them in power
Sick of all these dumb solutions Why not tell me something new? I've been hearing so much bullshit It's impossible to tell the truth How can they preach
What's your number? What's your name? What's your status? What's your game? Down the station come with me All you punks you're all the same What's your
You paint your leather jacket but it comes off in the rain And the more you cut your hair the more it grows again The badges you pin on yourself fall
We're going backwards Into the sin of self-neglect What do we stand for? It's very easy to forget The protest marches Is it the done thing to object?
When the people of the country have forgotten how to disagree And the national economy is said to be OK And the wages that you get will help you to forget