Luyện nghe bài hát Back to the Motor League

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

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

to the Motor League I go.
Once I drew a lucky hand.
Turned out to be a grenade

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, shitty zines,
the straw-men you up to burn.

It never to amaze 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 have we
15 years later it reeks of 'Swill and Chickenshit Conformists
with their in the air;
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 and stick me on a ten-speed.
I guess life is just a contest.

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