B.O.B (Bombs Obliterate Bags)
Today the threat is bombs in bags.
Before it was the bombs over Baghdad.
What is it we're going to do next?
Have everyone wear a blast-proof vest?
Its a knee jerk reaction such as this,
That pushes me toward being an anarchist.
Because without any rules to break or live by,
It just doesn't matter who lives and who dies.
And though it may seem that the powers-that-be,
Just don't give a shit about you or about me.
Without targets, their missiles are just pieces of steel.
Useless cylindrical weapons with nothing to kill.
They could fire them at each other; “Fire at will!”
But there's no fun in that, with no innocents to kill.
They need us, their puppets, who dance on the strings,
They need to destroy us and our material things.
Our material things that they want us to buy,
Like houses and cars and surround sound hifi.
The goods we don't need, just to keep us in debt,
The bank owns most of your stuff, I will bet.
So do us all a favour, rise up and be heard,
Gather your friends, start spreading the word.
Let get things together, let's make a stand,
And then, as one, we'll stick it to The Man.
Tell him, “No more, we've all had enough,
“We're sick of you coming and fucking our stuff,
“No more will you kill us for the profits of war,
“No more will we die, be hungry or poor.
“No more will it be each man for himself,
“You're going to give us food, shelter and health.”
And one final thing as we tear down their walls,
Why for so long have we been led by The Fools?
By J. Barrett
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