You want it I can see it
Like a brick through a police-station window
Never tasted anything that tasted this good, that tasted this good

This could be the sweet taste of passion
This could be the divine flavor of revolution
This could be the sweet taste of passion
This could be the divine flavor of revolution

I want it it's so fucking obvious
Like a mailbomb to our favorite co-operation
A worthy exposure of
Capitalist murder and exploitation
A hand that touches that face that I can't wait to see smile
Brake out in laughter and say: "Those fascist deserve to die!"
"Those fascist ought to die!"
"Those fascist ought to die!"

And I tell myself that this is pretty fucking dumb
These words just trivialize and banalise
And I tell myself that this is pretty fucking dumb
How these words just trivialize and banalise

We've seen the ways, conservative and the lame
Promised them that we shouldn't let this become
Traditionalistic, silly and tame in any way
We want it in so many ways
Like a touch on the lip, a brick and a cocktail.
And we will scream that they won't know and they won't know what hit them, what hit them

Smashed bank, a riot and a clenched fist
A heartache, a classwar ended with a big kiss
A smashed bank, a riot and a clenched fist
A heartache, a classwar ended with a big kiss