Back to the motor league lyrics

Artist  : Propaghandi 
Song : Back to the motor league
 
I like to party fucking hard. I like my rock and
roll the same. don’t give a fuck if I burn out.
don’t give a fuck if I fade away. so back to the
motor-league with me before I’m forced to face t
Ath of a well-heeled buying public who live
vicariously through tortured-artist college-rock
and floor-punching macho pabulum. back to the
motor league I go. once thought I drew a lucky
hand. tu
Out to be a live grenade of play-acting
"anarchists" and
mommy’s-little-skinheads, death-threats and
sycophants and wieners drunk on straight-edge.
fuck off. who cares? I’d rather hi-l
Rip-tiks than listen to your bullshit. fuck off.
who cares about your stupid scenes, your shitty
zines, the straw-men you build up to burn. it
never ceases to amaze me and as I’m suffering
your
Ction it reminds me of my own race to redress my
own sad history of mouthed feet. eaten hats.
teated bulls. amish phone-books. drunken brawls.
but what have we here? 15 years later it still
reek
¡®swill and chickenshit conformists wi
Th their fists in the air; like-father, like-son
"rebels¡± bloated on korn, eminems and
bizkits. lord, hear our prayer: take back your
amy grant mosh-crews and your fair-weather
politics. b
Ry my hair and stick me on a ten-speed. back to
the motor league. I guess life is just a
popularity contest. success, the ability to
perform within a framework of obedience. just ask
the candy-c
Joy-cam rock-bands selling shoes for
venture-capitalists, silencing competing
messages, rounding off the jagged edges. today is
good day to die.