Propagandhi - Back to the Motor League

Play-acting "anarchists" and Mommy's-little-skinheads,
Death-threats and sycophants and wieners drunk on straight-edge.
Fuck off
Who cares?
I'd rather highlight Trip-Tiks than listen to your bullshit.
Fuck off
Who cares- about your stupid scenes, your shitty zines, the straw-men you build up to burn?

It never ceases to amaze
And as I'm suffering your perfection it reminds me of my own race
To redress my own sad history of:
Mouthed feet
Eaten hats
Teated bulls
Amish phone-books
Drunken brawls

But what have we here?
15 years later it still reeks of swill and Chickenshit Conformists
With their fists in the air
Like-father, like-son "rebels" bloated on korn, eminems and bizkits.
Lord, hear our prayer:
Take back your Amy Grant mosh-crews and fair-weather politics.
Blow-dry my hair and stick me on a ten-speed.
Back to the Motor League