Luyện nghe bài hát Back to the Motor League

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

So to the Motor League with me
who live through
before I'm forced to face the wrath of a well-heeled public
tortured-artist college-rock and macho pabulum.

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

of "anarchists"
and Mommy's-little-skinheads, and sycophants
and wieners 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 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 my own sad history of
Teated
Amish
Eaten

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

Lord, hear our prayer: take 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.

Back to the League.
Success, the to perform within a framework of obedience.
Just ask the Joy-Cam rock-bands selling shoes
rounding off the jagged edgesfor venture-capitalists, silencing messages,