Låttexter:
Born Against

OK Mister media relations, hired & fired in the space of a sentence, and somewhere in between you bounced back at me, I can't believe the garbage you

Mount the pavement lick the pavement clean You say you want honesty well it's the puppets who pull the strings no one's got the bottom to our heads and

the sons of bitches make them pay for their victims pain this may not always work but by god they'll never do that again & the flesh still works up

Where's your anger where's their body count they want to know why you fight when the inside's rotting out here's their omission there's the infection

Jock gestapo shouting from trucks spitting on beating down those who strayed shitting on beating in those who stayed who would not be crushed by the offensive

a bunch of spoiled little rich kids who need to get their asses kicked fucking ingrates! fukcing pussies!! Born against are fucking dead dead dead born against

The Marlboro Man's Dead and so are all his cowboys their propoganda killed my motehr preyed on force of habit te Marlboro Man is dead and so are all his

Fuck your version of a world where no one's ugly and no one's old fuck your version of a beauty that sets the standards for all the runners up fuck your

I would like to crush your pointed head You fucking puke I think you wet the bed I would like to punch your stupid face Grab you by your punk rock hair