Luyện nghe bài hát Back to the Motor League

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

So back to the League with me
who live vicariously
before I'm forced to the wrath of a well-heeled buying public
tortured-artist college-rock and floor-punching pabulum.

to the Motor League I go.
Once thought I drew a hand.
out to be a live grenade

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

Who
off.
I'd rather hi-lite Trip-Tiks 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
your it reminds me of my own race
feet
to redress my own sad of
Teated
phone-books
Eaten

brawls.
But what we here?
15 years later it still reeks of 'Swill and Conformists
with their fists in the
like-father, like-son "rebels on korn, eminems and bizkits.

Lord, hear our prayer: back your Amy Grant mosh-crews and
your politics.
Blow-dry my hair and me on a ten-speed.
I guess life is a popularity contest.

to the Motor League.
Success, the ability to within a framework of obedience.
ask the candy-coated Joy-Cam rock-bands selling shoes
rounding off the jagged edgesfor venture-capitalists, competing messages,