Luyện nghe bài hát Back to the Motor League

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

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

Back to the Motor I go.
thought I drew 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 Trip-Tiks listen to your bullshit.

Who

off.
...about your stupid scenes, your zines,
the you build up to burn.

It ceases to amaze me and as I'm suffering
perfection it reminds me of my own race
mouthed
to my own sad history of
bulls
Amish
Eaten

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

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

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