>>
KARAOKE TEXTY >>
KARAOKE TEXTY p >>
Propagandhi >>
I fuckinâ love that one rock video where that fucking jack-ass mohawked millionaire prances around by far the worst sausage party on earth, where by mere chance heâs caught on film shaking hands with an incredibly diverse collection of patriotic skins. I like the message it sends: With a Rebel⢠yell, Just Do Exactly What Youâre Told. One million douche bags canât be wrong? âWhen did punk rock become so safe?â Youâll excuse me if I laugh in your face as I itemize your receipts and PowerPoint your balance sheets. I hear this yearâs Vans Warped Tour is âgoing green!â I guess they heard that money grows on trees. Hope they ship all those shitty bands overseas like they did the factories. Musicâs power to describe, compel, renew ⌠Itâs all a distant second to the offers you canât refuse. Anyone remember when we used to believe that music was a sacred place and not some fucking bank machine? Not something you just bought and sold? How could we have been so naĂŻve? Well, I think when all is said and done, just cuz we were young doesnât mean we were wrong. And Iâll rock back and forth on this two-bit hobbyhorse âtil she splinters and gives way. Iâll tend the flowers by her grave. And whisper her name. If anyone out there understands can I please see a show of hands just so I know Iâm not insane? Ever get the feeling you been played? Well, thatâs rock for sustainable capitalism and you know, we may face a scorched and lifeless earth, but theyâre accountable to their shareholders first. Thatâs how the world works.
