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While those meat-eating hippies
get on my tits, you know cos the grain the cattle's eating to human mouths should go And when half the world is starving, well, it really drives me mad It's not groovy, wild, or tasty It's just bad And the anarchist in his armchair gets on my tits as well Cos he thinks he's so much wiser than every body else But shouting at the telly won't change a fucking thing Get out your seat, get on the streets and sing Well, meat-eating hippies and armchair anarchists are not the world's greatest problem, I admit but I can't resist poking fun at such obvious hypocrisy You'd never get a thing like that from me Well, on second thought maybe But the major label punk bands annoy me most of all Cos they're tied to corporations who trade in arms and war And it's hard to fuck the system while you make that system rich So stop the majors, find alternatives |
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