歌词
Transmission third world war, third round
A decade of the weapon of sound above ground
Ain't no shelter if you're looking for shade
I lick shots at the brutal charade
As the polls close like a casket on truth devoured
A silent play on the shadow of power
A spectacle monopolized
The camera's eye on choice disguised
Lights out,
Guerilla radio
Turn that ****t up
Lights out,
Guerilla radio
Turn that ****t up
Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil
Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil?
A spectacle monopolized
They hold the reins and stole your eyes
The fistagons, bullets and bombs
Who staff the banks?
Who staff the party ranks?
More for Gore or the son of the drug
LordNone of the above, **** it, cut the cord
Lights out,
Guerilla radio
Turn that ****t up
Lights out,
Guerilla radio
Turn that ****t up
Lights out,
Guerilla radio
Turn that ****t up
Guerilla radio
Quit it now