Тексты песен «Propagandhi»

there was nothing remotely romantic about it. no hand-me-down sob-stories, either nurtured or genetic. so what was so goddamn important that i felt i had to shelve each and every one of my convictions? secured and...

I speak outside what is recognized as the border between "reason" and "insanity". But I consider it a measure of my humanity to be written off by the living graves of a billion murdered lives. And I'm not ashamed of my...

I speak outside what is recognized as the border between "reason" and "insanity". But I consider it a measure of my humanity to be written off by the living graves of a billion murdered lives. And I'm not ashamed of...

The following views expressed do not necessarily reflect those of the prevailing order, who prostrate to their naked kings, tailor the seams of funeral shrouds on foreign shores, but shed no tears for the dead of the...

In which god's name will we be killed? Who's most righteous? Who's most terrified? When your parents left the house we would creep up to their room, to the drawer beside the bed. We would pull out the shining dildo. One...

Suburbs tremble again, fearing the have-nots at the window, collecting their fair share. Guns and alarms aren't enough. They demand justice, and every criminal locked away, as well as any kid who might do something...

Our lives lead to nowhere, we're counting time Then grasping for each other, as we're crushed beneath the tide No rising from the ashes, your final flight Was a plunge into Nigredo's endless night Suffocate The...

I never promised you nothing, never said I'd be your perfect shackled slave. If success to you is measured in dollars and cents then I decline. That's nothing. That's not my dream. It comes between everything. Someday...

the best thing i ever saw on tv was that s.q. (securite quebec) cop catching a bullet with his teeth. condolence, madame canadiana, but your husband was a fucking (stuck) pig. but this song's not about some romantic...

Words can't do justice to pain. Seems like they can't feel a thing. Ordinary people do fucked-up things when fucked-up things become ordinary. I can't promise utopia or a better world. I have no clever lures. No harsh...

Words can't do justice to pain. Seems like they can't feel a thing. Ordinary people do fucked-up things when fucked-up things become ordinary. I can't promise utopia or a better world. I have no clever lures. No harsh...

words cant do justice to pain seems like they cant feel a thing.Ordinary people do fucked up things when fucked up things become ordinay.I cant promise utopia or a better world,I have no lures,no harsh punishment if you...

Words can't do justice to pain. Seems like they can't feel a thing. Ordinary people do fucked-up things when fucked-up things become ordinary. I can't promise utopia or a better world. I have no clever lures. No harsh...

thought, word and deed once sloganeered, a reaction undefined, the battle-hymn, the mantra of a once unfocused mind. but as logic tempered anger, still inspired but now informed, the 'pigs' we'd turned to caricature...

Sleeping masters roused to burning homes from beds. Steeping toddlers plucked from their watery deaths: ribbons, plaques and soft-soap are the ephemeral rewards paid to the slaves whose selfless acts accord a higher...

I'm not going to try to tell you that I'm different from all the rest. I've been subject to the same de-structure of desire and I've felt the same effects; I'm a hetero-sexist tragedy. And potential rapists all are we...

I can't believe the things that have been said Remain for the purpose of remaining. I can't believe all the things we've done and still we've learned nothing. I can't believe all the things we've done and I can't...

why don't we all strap bombs to our chests and ride our bikes to the next g-7 picnic? it seems easier with every clock tick. but whose will would that represent? mine? yours? the rank-and-file's? or better yet: the...

Our cities seem to function quite the same: sweeping ghettos under one big rug makes them easier to contain, so the upper-middle class can sleep (or shop in peace) and convince themselves that "trickle-down" will solve...

I fuckin' love that one rock video where that fucking jack-ass mohawked millionaire prances around by far the worst sausage party on earth, where by mere chance he's caught on film shaking hands with an incredibly...