No dates to miss, no home to phone
No face to kiss, no good alone
No family, no history, a permenant delinquency
No will to smile, no room to cry
No time to think
Just watch, don't flinch
Why yes, that's you in your millionth clinch
You murder every time you blink
Some flee disasters for their lives
You flee the spawn of grubby lies
At one with graveyard dust and shipyard rust
Too loose to trust
You'll heal so much faster
if your homeland is your master
No dirt-cheap Adriatic sun
No heart of gold back of the gun
No deathcamps built for less than fun
No white man's bond, no civilization
No right to more than birth and death
from the drivelling drones of the former west
Their credo dead like Brezhnev's bones
Their headless spears and special malnutrition zones
No deathcamps here, I tell you
Just grey convenience hell
Ten civil wars unended
'neath billboard signs which yell,
