lyrics
It is not often that I rant but this issue’s grating on me
This is the tale of the spineless liberal
Desperate to ease their middle-class guilt
Eager to wear wristbands and badges
Desperate to show their empathy
Charity seems their only option
Oh, how wrong those fuckers can be
Be wary our good friends we’ll call liberal aggravators
Believe it I think about this every day
A viewpoint that satisfies our much-loved ruling classes
“Reformist” would be only an undue flattery
A question, I’ve read about some people just like you
They seemed to have littered all of my history books
Betrayers, backstabbers and the sell-outs of our class
The smell of utopia is making me feel sick
Bow down, better believe it or you’ll burn in hell too.
Wake up, this is no place to air your Menshevik blues
Airhead, airhead, I got a problem; I’m easily amused
Fuck this drivel
Ten years on the liberals are defending their old masters
With no shame they push their dying ideology
The centrists, despicable and sickening pretenders
They must be eradicated from our honest cause
Their number is up and their cards are marked on a platter
Go get them and chase them out of our movement
Bare-faced, brass-necked and soulless, sour, washed-up careerists
I welcome this time of seeing them crushed into the ground
Bow down, better believe it or you’ll burn in hell too.
Wake up, this is no place to air your Menshevik blues
Airhead, airhead, I got a problem; I’m easily amused
Fuck this drivel
Divulge the truth they hide from us
Destroy the enemy within
A chance has come to build a better world
So take it up and don’t look back
The wolves are out to break it all back down
So hold them off and choke their plans
Divulge the truth they hide from us
Destroy the enemy within
Be wary our good friends we’ll call liberal aggravators
Believe it I think about this every day
A viewpoint that satisfies our much-loved ruling classes
“Reformist” would be only an undue flattery
A question, I’ve read about some people just like you
They seemed to have littered all of my history books
Betrayers, backstabbers and the sell-outs of our class
The smell of utopia is making me feel sick
Bow down, better believe it or you’ll burn in hell too.
Wake up, this is no place to air your Menshevik blues
Airhead, airhead, I got a problem; I’m easily amused
Fuck this drivel
credits
from
Harijan,
released December 18, 2020
Danny Corrigan - Drums
Ian Eccles - Bass Guitar
Richard Hill - Lead Guitar
Andy Willi - Guitar
Joe Tatton - Trombone, Backing Vocals
Ewan Mackenzie - Trombone, Backing Vocals
Alex Dowson - Trumpet
Robert Garstang - Alto Saxophone, Electric Organ
Mike Corrigan - Vocals, Guitar, Melodica
Produced by Kurt Wood @ Corner House Record Studio - Keighley
Artwork by Greg Meade @ Habitats Studio - Manchester
license
all rights reserved
