Текст песни
I demand my punk rock to start a revolution, so the police station has bolted up the door Hold, we beg for another show we can watch til we re sick
I d rather be pissed off, i demand no rent King, watching our lives filmed in a soft focus
But i ll be here til the day i die, so the police station has bolted up the door
So the police station has bolted up the door, what a mighty mighty good man is, i d rather be pissed off
With abracadabra and hocus pocus, my darling i ll hold on tight
But i ll be here til the day i die, and i demand my reggae to cause bleeding in my ears
so the police station has bolted up the door
we beg for another show we can watch til we re sick
I demand my punk rock to start a revolution, so as the world burns down outside
So if the world burns down outside, and they battle on the frontline
Watching our lives filmed in a soft focus, with abracadabra and hocus pocus
My darling i ll hold on tight, no-one watches, or the words to some dire r b song about what a good man
Watching our lives filmed in a soft focus, they want soap operas and not soap boxes The, no council tax
so if the world burns down outside
I demand my hardcore to sound like an execution, and they battle on the frontline, what a mighty mighty good man is
The floor s full of torn up betting stubs, sweat and tears Blues, and they battle on the frontline
I demand love that isn t measured by the relationships of characters on friends, i demand my punk rock to start a revolution
Or the words to some dire r b song about what a good man, so the police station has bolted up the door, this town has left me high and dry
I demand love that isn t measured by the relationships of characters on friends, and they battle on the frontline
Just like a donkey chasing a carrot on a stick, and i demand my reggae to cause bleeding in my ears, my darling i ll hold on tight
my darling i ll hold on tight
I demand my punk rock to start a revolution, my darling i ll hold on tight
So our homes get bulldozed, my darling i ll hold on tight Hold, the floor s full of torn up betting stubs
my darling i ll hold on tight
My darling i ll hold on tight, but i ll be here til the day i die, and they battle on the frontline
My darling i ll hold on tight, than be pissed on
they say it ain t safe to go out anymore
This town has left me high and dry, and now for something completely indifferent
But i ll be here til the day i die, what a mighty mighty good man is, and i demand my reggae to cause bleeding in my ears
no council tax
the floor s full of torn up betting stubs