Luyện nghe bài hát Back to the Motor League

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

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

Back to the League I go.
Once thought I drew a 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 than listen to your bullshit.

Who

off.
...about your 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
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, like-son "rebels 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 just a contest.

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