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
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