Prime time,
The life line to millions of addicts,
I’ve had it,
With all this bullshit
Your giving me
It’s blasphemy
Against the soul
Against whole human race
I’ll hit you in your fucking face
Giving me that shit all the time
Pumping out the bollocks
At mother fucking prime time

Bomb the stations holding the nation
In a death grip

Bomb the stations holding the nation
In a death grip

Bomb the stations holding the nation
In a death grip

Lets stop the bullshit

I’m my own
Not a clone to control
I’m gonna keep my soul
Breakfast TV
Is giving me a headache, my hands shake
For gods sake
Coffee to stay awake
Stay alive
Productive member of the hive
Controlled through the television
No decisions
Break the programming
Get on with the living

Bomb the stations holding the nation
In a death grip

Bomb the stations holding the nation
In a death grip

Bomb the stations holding the nation
In a death grip

Lets stop the bullshit

A wise man once said
You want to fuck with me
I’ll show you who your fucking with
So let’s show them who their fucking with
Lets take back our lives
And live

Bomb the stations holding the nation
In a death grip

Bomb the stations holding the nation
In a death grip

Bomb the stations holding the nation
In a death grip

Lets stop the bullshit

Lets stop the bullshit

Lets stop the bullshit

Lets stop it NOW

The taste of this place turns my face in disgust
The trace of disgrace and misplaced trust
And I bust
On and on singing this song
This swan song gone wrong
I hid my face in a bong for too long
Change happened around me
It all changed and I stayed the same
This naked flame ingrained with seeds of the insane
I feel a migraine and there’s no one to blame
Because I was the only one that stayed the same
Frame by frame the film flashed before my face
Naked celluloid of the life I avoid
Annoyed by the choice I can’t voice
With vocal chords and lyrical swords
All aboard going toward a life of being ignored
By scores of the bored looking for a reward
Freedom outlawed in a plan that’s flawed
But used anyway with no say
From those that pay the wages
of the masterminds that for ages
Have held the keys to our cages
We pay our jailers in favours
And they give us cash
To be failures and see them as saviours
I was taught there was a choice
I was told to believe
I was deceived
Whilst they weaved a scene
A tapestry of the serene
Where every dream could come clean
School was just a marketing team
An advert for a dessert that flirts
On the edge of your vision
For the rest of your life
Someone else’s decision
The carrot that that dangles far out ahead
Out of your grasp to your deathbed
Where you realise their money took you nowhere
Turning your life into a ride on their funfair

Or
Losing Safer Days

Now
Forever
Always
Never again
Ignore the pain

Do you understand
What I understand
As you argue your view
When I agree with you

Try to enter my mind
Then look at your mind
But don’t let go
Our you’ll land
In sane mind
Lost out mind
Forever nevermind

Life flashes
Moments dash
Thrash
Crash against my head
Wave
Cave
Dark and forbidden
Plainly hidden
Soul ride
Tried
Loved
Not enough
Feeling rough
Stubble
Rubble
No sleep
In a heap
Gently weep
The moment will keep
So grab a seat
Join the ride
Don’t be scared to hide

Stormed gates
Washed down storm drains
Splintered by an attack
That shuddered
My arched back twisted neck shape
That gyrates with our rhythm
Muffling the four-four beat
From downstairs

Dance music at ten to four
I think we’ve had enough
Of your taste

So will you please just turn it fucking down
We were trying to sleep

It’s a beautiful day
Looking at the sun
For the last time
Strolling in the restaurant
Nobody notices me
Before I start my killing spree

Pulling the shotgun
From inside my Puffa-Jacket
(Trench-coats are so passe)
Screams erupt as the muzzle barks
Bites crimson in a teenagers chest
Then starts snapping at the rest

Finally you notice me
Hunting, on a killing spree
Finally you will see
The inside of a killing spree

I set the shotgun
Onto the barging door crowd
Screaming as partners fall
Blood spraying a humble message
As the cartridges run out
The Magnum begins to shout

The killing spree wasn’t made by me
Marilyn Manson and computer games
They’re the ones that are to blame
For my blood soaked claim to fame
So ban the music, ban the fun
But leave free access to the guns