Oh please forgive me if my hands are where my head should be
I'm a little bit too busy to be singing songs right now
My plectrum is a firing pin, I've thirty rounds to every string
My words are rhyming triggers for each lyric that I sing
'Cos this machine is making folk a threat again
This machine that I'm holding in my hands
This machine is the best I've ever seen
'Cos this machine kills silence
No revolution of my making will be amplified
I'll find my stage lights in setting of the sun
And when the electrics go the ones we fight will realize
That we can still play louder than the guns.
This machine is making folk a threat again
This machine that I'm holding in my hands
This machine is the best I've ever seen
'Cos this machine kills madness.
This machine is making folk a threat again
This machine that I'm holding in my hands
This machine is the best I've ever seen
'Cos this machine kills fascists.
I'm a little bit too busy to be singing songs right now
My plectrum is a firing pin, I've thirty rounds to every string
My words are rhyming triggers for each lyric that I sing
'Cos this machine is making folk a threat again
This machine that I'm holding in my hands
This machine is the best I've ever seen
'Cos this machine kills silence
No revolution of my making will be amplified
I'll find my stage lights in setting of the sun
And when the electrics go the ones we fight will realize
That we can still play louder than the guns.
This machine is making folk a threat again
This machine that I'm holding in my hands
This machine is the best I've ever seen
'Cos this machine kills madness.
This machine is making folk a threat again
This machine that I'm holding in my hands
This machine is the best I've ever seen
'Cos this machine kills fascists.
Contributed by giorgio - 2010/6/20 - 09:07
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Lyrics and Music by Al Baker
Album: On The Use of Jack Boots