Tekster:
Propagandhi How To Clean Everything

Dance and laugh and play Ignore the message we convey It seems we're only Here to entertain A rebellion cut-to-fit I refuse to be the soundtrack to it

three choices, one bullet, one trigger, guess who gets to pull it one leader, a thousand slaves. for every throne there's a thousand graves you're all

You speak of Rastafari, but how can you justify belief in a God that's left you behind. You simply fill the gap between the upper and lower class

Ska sucks. Ska revival isn't cool you stupid fuck. The bands are only in it for ther bucks. If you don't belive me your a shmuck. But the trend will die

I wanna walk you home from school. And I wanna carry your books to every class. And I wanna fuck you up the ass. Aw girl, you know it's true how much

no one really cares. Peripherally blind. Intellectually numb. Ignorance by choice? or just plain fucking dumb? You're threatened by my mind. You want everything

It's something physical, conditioned reaction. It's something physical, conditioned attraction. But have I finally escaped? Will my eyes no longer rape

You speak of Rastafari, but how can you justify belief In a god that's left you behind? You've simply filled the gap between the upper and lower class

Mark your point of failing. It begins where you concede. Hesitate. Procrastinate. Sedating. All configured to impede your path. You need a good kick