Luyện nghe bài hát Back to the Motor League

I like to fucking hard
I like my rock and the same
Don't give a if I burn out
give a fuck if I fade away.

So back to the Motor League me
who live vicariously
before I'm forced to face the wrath of a buying public
college-rock and floor-punching macho pabulum.

Back to the Motor I go.
Once thought I a lucky hand.
Turned out to be a live

of "anarchists"
and Mommy's-little-skinheads, death-threats and
and drunk on straight-edge.

Who
off.
I'd rather hi-lite than listen to your bullshit.

Who

off.
...about stupid scenes, your shitty zines,
the straw-men you up to burn.

It never ceases to me and as I'm suffering
perfection it reminds me of my own race
mouthed
to redress my own sad of
bulls
Amish
hats

brawls.
But what have we
15 years later it still reeks of and Chickenshit Conformists
with their in the air;
like-father, like-son "rebels bloated on korn, and bizkits.

Lord, our prayer: take back your Amy Grant mosh-crews and
fair-weather politics.
Blow-dry my and stick me on a ten-speed.
I life is just a popularity contest.

Back to the League.
Success, the ability to perform a framework of obedience.
Just ask the candy-coated Joy-Cam rock-bands shoes
rounding off the edgesfor venture-capitalists, silencing competing messages,