Artist: Justin Currie Album: Unsorted Song: No, Surrender Translated title:
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Big Macs for the fat, lo-cal wraps for the call centre battery hens, Japanese snacks for the choice-spoilt citizens, caviar kickbacks for the citadel denizens.
Airport shoeshines servicing the suits among the little silver stereos and hand-rolled cheroots, First class passengers file on last after the scum are packed in with their tax-free loot.
Checkout calamity, you're cheated out of loyalty points, ten more years at this joint you'd be home & dry, Beggars beat round the cash machines but you just slip between them with the usual lie.
Terrible tales of kidnapped kids keep you focused on the family and filling up the fridge, Neighbourhood watchers shop dole dodgers, stick their semis on the market & start racking up the bids.
Should you stand and fight, should you die for what you think is right So your useless contribution will be remembered? If you're asking me I say no, surrender.
Constant growth the cancerous cure, a swarming race of profiteers ensure Cheap cars for the rich, cheap lives for the poor, cheap weeks in the sun, free drinks at the door.
Puerile propaganda plugs up the TV, keep folk following the money so they'll never be free Keep them swallowing the swill, the celebrities, the paedophiles, the immigrants invading from the camp over the hill.
War talk, the big debate, footsoldiers in the capitol liberating new kinds of hate Cum-shots of human dots caught in the spotlight's glare; he dies who dares.
Fatuous fast-trackers sneering at the shelf-stackers, little Middle-Englanders can't stand the backpackers, Fortress Freedom, come on in, take your chances-you might win.
Should you stand and fight, should you die for what you think is right So your useless contribution will be remembered? If you're asking me I say no, surrender.
Sunset beaches security patrolled, keep out the undesirables who won't accept the code Equal opportunity to live in total poverty, execute the ignorant incarcerate the slow
Car caressing managers choking up the avenues, brain dead patriots standing in salute Paperwork raining again and again so that billionaires can claim there's an enemy to shoot
Pill pushers, doorsteppers, personal goal shoppers, lifestyle trendsetters, meditating mindbenders, Hare-brained share sellers pumping out stocks til you're choking on a chain-letter avalanche of dross.
God squads crawling through every country tracking down fools who are bullshit hungry Blinded by divinity followers fall into the man-traps set along the Wailing Wall.
Athletes compete in grand charades while tanks flatten streets and a nation laughs, Visa holders gape at the changing guards while creeps bribe bums to take their photographs.
Film fans flock to the latest schlock, blockbusters block out even the vaguest thought Bankrupt schools grind out fool after fool then feed them to a system where idiots rule.
Polling booths, phone votes, bogus questionnaires, you get a say as if anybody cares Joe Public doesn't want to play so liquidate his life as he looks the other way.
Don't get sick, don't get wise or they'll gut you with a jistice where everything is lies March down Main Street, complain if you want but it's twenty years straight for the losers at the front.
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