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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Germs
Germs
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Darby Crash
Darby Crash
Songwriter
Pat Smear
Pat Smear
Songwriter
Georg Ruthenberg
Georg Ruthenberg
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Joan Jett
Joan Jett
Producer

Lyrics

Land of treason, waste no reason We are breathing fire We're packs of dogs, we're enemies of men We are not desired Our faces show, we've grown cold But have not conspired Old hearts gone, the future's on Mother nations mired I like a receptacle for the chosen dead We find our bodies clawed With the scent of death We find that we are not so very awed Loyalties burned, the words our blurred Overturn your own Walk like dogs and watch the doors Have your other stone Stop the toys that match disordered Calculate the thrones Feel the pulse descending Decaying hallowed tomes In the starving sense you worship The nations of debris You wear a cost of sewage That you've never even seen The time is now, the vicious here A stolen dinner code The license of the savage land That you've always sold So bite the hand that needs you And bless another coal The virus never issues From a cotton so very old As the lights come down [Incomprehensible] You wash your hands and start to climb The ladder that you stole Slip the hatch and spin the sword The money lords are poor Push the tan that rolls downhill Their sense of dream absorbed Still the cat that breaks the night Tie him to the core Chase the viruses that believe That what's right is scored It's a senseless cash in right for right What's wrong is never gone And left is just a passion For the fools golden dawn
Writer(s): Pat Smear, Darby Crash Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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