These words aren’t warnings, These words aren’t ink.
These words aren’t here, to make you think.
There not messages or things never said.
There not random words that erupt from my head.
There not words of love or words of hate
These words are Z’s because its so late
I can’t get no satisfaction sleep.
We’ll live for the fear, we’ll die for the thrill.
We’ll light up hell and we’ll deafen the demons.
Bonnie and Clyde have nothing on us.
We’ll teach the old , we’ll learn from the youth.
We’ll ignite rebellion, we’ll shatter peace.
As the roses fall we watch each other self destruct.
Thought of the Day
If your not supposed to play with your food, Why did they invent cheesestrings?
My grandads voice rings
“If you work hard, you’ll have nice things”
We can’t have nice things, its been decided
Not by the politicians, nor those with petitions
It’s not the men from the met or those who’s ways are set
It’s not the preachers it’s not the teachers
It’s not those with odd socks or the Mr Murdochs
It’s the Dirty chavs, filthy scabs
A plague on all our houses
They’ve revived him, hadn’t you heard?
To save our economy? Don’t be absurd!
They’ve brought him back with a red briefcase,
To launch an attack on the working class race.
He’s here squeeze the middle, until the pips squeak!
He’s here to feed the rich and watch the poor weep!