Leather and sweat fills the atmosphere
Stretchin and drippin just to pogo too
The anarchy show, they shout it out
There is no real music
And I'm just shoutin' and screamin'
But that is a response to an anarchist meeting
But after the gig is my true bender
Every shake back to me goes
Poor lambs, this is a fuckin slaughter
You think that this is a turn of phrase
Realism is what we're preachin
Are you really so afraid?