Tekster: Toxic Narcotic. 89-99. Alarm Clock.

Money's not my god it's not my only thought, fuck the ones who judge by how much cash you got, fuck the ones who go to the classy spots, still here in Boston there's not a single squat, tell me that I suck cuz I can't afford the bars, look down on my cuz I can't afford the cars, higher up the ladder the fall is just as far, see your possessions as chains that they are, you work here's your salary, you rent here's your sitcom, you buy here's your alcohol, you die here's your napalm, you work here's your six pack, you rent here's your couch, you buy here's your gun, you die to get the fuck out, in ignorance you sleep, it's time to wake up!