Banned from the Roxy... O.K.
I never much liked playing there anyway.
They said they only wanted well behaved boys,
Do they think guitars and microphones are just f****** toys?
f*** 'em, I chosen to make my stand,
Against what I feel is wrong with this land.
They just sit there on their overfed a***s,
Feeding off the sweat of less fortunate classes.
They keep their f****** power cause their finger's on the b***on,
They've got control and won't let it be forgotten.
The truth of their reality is at the wrong end of a gun,
The proof of that is Belfast and that's no f****** fun.
Seeing the squaddy lying in the front yard,
Seeing the machine guns resting on the fence.
Finding the entrance to your own front door is barred
And they've got the f****** nerve to call it defence.
Seems their defence is just the threat of strength,
Protection for the privileged at any length.
The government protecting their profits from the poor,
The rich and the fortunate chaining up the door.
Afraid that the people may ask for a little more
Than the s*** they get. The s*** they get.
The s*** they get. The s*** they get.
The s*** they get. The s*** they get.
The s*** they get. The s*** they get.
DEFENCE? s***, IT'S NOTHING LESS THEN WAR
AND NO ONE BUT THE GOVERNMENT KNOWS WHAT THE f*** IT'S FOR.
Oh yes they say it's defence, they say it's decency,
Mai Lai, Hiroshima, know what I mean?
The same f****** lies with depressing frequency,
They say "We had to do it to keep our lives clean"
Well whose like? Whose f****** life?
Who the f*** are they talking to?
Whose life? Whose f****** life?
I tell you one thing, it ain't me and you.
And their system, christ, they're everywhere,
School, army, church, corporation deal.
A f***** up reality based on fear,
A f****** conspiracy to stop you feeling real.
Well ain't got me, I'd say their f****** wrong,
I ain't quite ready with my gun, but I've got my song...
Banned from the Roxy, well O.K.
I never much liked playing there anyway.
GUNS.
I never much liked playing there anyway.
They said they only wanted well behaved boys,
Do they think guitars and microphones are just f****** toys?
f*** 'em, I chosen to make my stand,
Against what I feel is wrong with this land.
They just sit there on their overfed a***s,
Feeding off the sweat of less fortunate classes.
They keep their f****** power cause their finger's on the b***on,
They've got control and won't let it be forgotten.
The truth of their reality is at the wrong end of a gun,
The proof of that is Belfast and that's no f****** fun.
Seeing the squaddy lying in the front yard,
Seeing the machine guns resting on the fence.
Finding the entrance to your own front door is barred
And they've got the f****** nerve to call it defence.
Seems their defence is just the threat of strength,
Protection for the privileged at any length.
The government protecting their profits from the poor,
The rich and the fortunate chaining up the door.
Afraid that the people may ask for a little more
Than the s*** they get. The s*** they get.
The s*** they get. The s*** they get.
The s*** they get. The s*** they get.
The s*** they get. The s*** they get.
DEFENCE? s***, IT'S NOTHING LESS THEN WAR
AND NO ONE BUT THE GOVERNMENT KNOWS WHAT THE f*** IT'S FOR.
Oh yes they say it's defence, they say it's decency,
Mai Lai, Hiroshima, know what I mean?
The same f****** lies with depressing frequency,
They say "We had to do it to keep our lives clean"
Well whose like? Whose f****** life?
Who the f*** are they talking to?
Whose life? Whose f****** life?
I tell you one thing, it ain't me and you.
And their system, christ, they're everywhere,
School, army, church, corporation deal.
A f***** up reality based on fear,
A f****** conspiracy to stop you feeling real.
Well ain't got me, I'd say their f****** wrong,
I ain't quite ready with my gun, but I've got my song...
Banned from the Roxy, well O.K.
I never much liked playing there anyway.
GUNS.