Refused
Are Fucking Dead.
Circle
pit We pride ourselves in the integrity of
our herds, but words are just words are just words. While the brand you
wear is the same as mine, we can´t be out of step if we´re
still in line. One more round - we wouldn´t want to trade new ground.
Another circle drawn for another carbon copy as we limit ourselves to the
flag of our flock. Circle pit mentality - individ removal - cut to fit
- for punkrock head approval. A shepherd vacancy, but don´t look
to us. All that phony Beatle mania has bitten the dust. The circle complete
in the imitation zone - find a new king for the throne.
Life
support addiction Somewhere along the line
we lost. Individuality paid the cost. Close enough to inhale the security
but as always too far away. We breed upon culture sickness and we made
this rule into our own. Silently sedated, our minds fly out the windows.
Our emotions suffocate. Suppress the essence of living... Your beautiful
independent Friday night dress. Wash away the fear and insecurity. This
substitute kills the freedom and cuts the wounds wide open. A glimpse caught
the sense and now you're content in slowly fading. The familiar escape.
The alternative to nothing. Reminded to die-life support addiction. Watch
your love slip through your hands.
New
noise Can I scream? It's here for us to admire
if we can afford the beauty of it. If we can afford the luxury of turning
our heads. If we can adjust that $1000 smile and behold the creation of
man. Great words won't cover ugly actions and good frames won't save bad
paintings. We lack the motion to move to the new beat. When the day is
over the doors are locked on us. Cause money buys the access and we can't
pay the cost. And how can we expect anyone to listen if we are using the
same old voice? We need new noise , new art for the real people. We lack
the motion to move to the new beat. We dance to all the wrong songs and
we enjoy all the wrong moves. We're not leading. Yeah. The new beat x10000.
Rather
be dead I'd rather be dead than alive by your
oppression. I'd rather be dead than alive by your design. Poisoned my fingers.
Burned out my eyes. Cut my throat to be alive. I'd rather be dead than
alive by your social values.I'd rather be dead than alive by your tradition.
But I'd rather be alive.
Worms
of the senses I got a bone to pick with capitalism
and a few to break. Grab us by the throat and shake the life away. Human
life is not commodity, figures, statistics or make believe. And yeah I
like eating excrement and not getting paid for it. Play the guilt, play
the fear and play the anxiety x2. Seduced by the opportunity and robbed
of hope. Human suffering is not commodity, figures, statistics or make
believe. Marginalise away the joy and sell us boredom. And yeah I like
working doing nothing and not making anything. Blame the poor, blame the
uneducated and blame the sick x2.
Faculties
of the scull I took the first bus out of Coca-Cola
city cause it made me feel nauseous and shitty. I took the first bus out
of Shell town cause they didn't want me hanging around. YEAH. YEAH. I took
the first bus. Let's take the first bus out of here x8.
Liberation
frequency It's coming through the air for
all of us to hear. Could it be the sounds of liberation or just the image
of detention? We
want the airwaves back, we want the airwaves back. We don't just want airtime
we want all the time all of the time. We want the airwaves back, we want
the airwaves back. We want transmission for the people by the people. What
frequency are you getting? Is it noise or sweet sweet music? On what frequency
will liberation be? On what frequency will liberation be? It's coming through
the air for all of us to hear. Could it be the sounds of liberation or
just the image of detention? Control my flower, business and news all ready
to devour. Who's in charge and what does he say? Is he playing alternative
or does it sound the same old way? We want the airwaves back...
The
deadly rhythm This union that made us powerless
is talking over our heads. Claiming prosperity in a downward spiral plan.
Stuck by the deadly rhythm of the production line. This power that made
us unionless is taking out of our hands. Cheapest labour at our expensive
cost, auctioned our lives away. We consume our lives like we are thankful
for what we are being forced into. Is it our duty to die for governments
and for gods? Is it our privilege to slave for market and industry? Is
it our right to follow laws set to scare and to oppress? Is it our gift
to stay in line and will it take away the blame? We can no longer pay the
price. We'll get organised. We will no longer believe that working for
you will set us free.
Summer
holidays vs. punk routine I'm tired of losing
myself to some stupid childhood dream of what I could have been. Money
proves the point and I'm stuck between summer holidays and punk routine.
I shoot off a 100 things to remain more sorry than safe. You see, I only
get this chance once and I just can't let it be. And I'm still certain
that what motivates me is more rewarding than any piece of paper could
be. Well adjusted and corrupt, all those icons that stole our teenage lust.
A scenario of simplicity, a scenario of you and me x2. Rather be forgooten
than remembered for giving in. We're all tired of dying - So sick of not
trying. Scared that we might fail - We'll accomplish nothing. Not even
failure.
The
refused party program This is the pulse -
This is the sound. This is the beat of a new generation. This is the movement
- This is the rhythm. This is the noise of revolution. Yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah. Refused party programme x3. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Refused
are fuckin' dead Beyond ability and control
we could be weekend lovers. Steal a sentence and make a catch phrase parole
for our revolution. Whispered all across the street about the new cool
call. Or screamed at your face like a scabs payroll. Faces like angels,
licking our fingertips. We don't have the patience to deal with it. With
battered bodies and puckered lips. We don't have the patience to deal with
it. A naive young secret for the new romantics. We express ourselves in
loud and fashionable ways. Yeah, get down, get down, yeah. Can i get a
witness? This I gotta see. Bring it in one more time for me x2. We don't
have the patience x4.
The
shape of punk to come Hey baby you never felt
this good. Freedom through the stereo and you wish you could take a bite,
do a dance and get lost on a crusade. Jump on this soul train with destination
unknown. Hey baby never felt this free. A pair of new shoes and a punk
rock show to see. Give acclamation to these blue ribbon babies. And check
the calendar for the expiration date. We've all been bitten - we've all
been underground. We've all been beaten, battered, bruised, told to get
down. All dressed up with somewhere to go. I told you so. Adolescent beats
with a new thing to see. Smashed guitars just like you've seen on TV. With
burning speakers and flaming hair. We'll have a riot right here.
Tannhäuser/Derivé
So
where do we go from here? Just about anywhere. Disorientated but alive.
Boredom won't get me tonight. Let's bring this city to life - to light
- tonight. There is no destination but with a goal in mind we can all be
realistic and demand the impossible. Let's bring this city to life - to
light - tonight.
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