This is a call for musical war
For songs to sing whilest kicking at their front doors
Soundtracks to attacks on mental embassys
We call this sound Katyusha Rock 'n Roll
Made from Micky Mouse watches and android soul
Might strike its target or sputter out as novelty
We eschew rare groove and c-note funk
And aim to make dunks out of dyna-flex junk
Music Missles burning hot intellectual property
Might shake the flake off rusty robot rumps
Or widen up eyes like dusty disco bumps
Cop it, chop it, vomit slop it tell your own story:

I knew this dude who spent his days in drag
Spent his nights dreaming of a brand new bag
Mother country makes for schizoid personalities
Dutiful oppisition makes a double score
Moral outrage and the spoils of war
Leads to perpatrator cop-out crisis of identity

Fuck the crisis!
Let's excise this boomer tumor in our brains distorting our desires
Hunger pangs and growling guts to guide us
Give names to creatures culture built inside us
Like Slick Smooth, White Disgusting
Dialectic cloud clash Sound of Lightning
The sky is bursting and blood is raining
My eyes are running, there's this voice saying...

So we'll take market missteps that are moldy and old
And we'll attack with sonic submission holds
And we won't stop hot-rocking 'til our bodies are cold
And all these bastards are choking on their solid gold
Air's full of farty flatulence of death machines
So we shoot detourned torpedos from our submarines
This is Charlie Tango Fresh Breeze 319
Copy back sub-aquatic is you receive

Sonar signals singing back at me
Cardiac echos of affinity
Let's make the pressure drop drop drop today!


Lyrics submitted by Dr. Caligari

Can Diarrhetic Break Throw song meanings
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