Guerilla Radio

Transmission, third world war, third round
 A decade of the weapon of sound above ground
 Ain't no shelter if you're looking for shade
 I lick shots at the brutal charade
 As the polls close like a casket on truth devoured
 A silent play on the shadow of power
 A spectacle monopolized
 The camera's eye on choice disguised
 Lights out, guerilla radio
 Turn that shit up
 Lights out, guerilla radio
 Turn that shit up
 Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil
 Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil?
 A spectacle monopolized
 They hold the reins and stole your eyes
 The fistagons, bullets, and bombs
 Who stuff the banks, who staff the party ranks
 More for Gore or the son of a drug lord
 None of the above, fuck it, cut the cord
 Lights out, guerilla radio
 Turn that shit up
 Lights out, guerilla radio
 Turn that shit up
 Lights out, guerilla radio
 Turn that shit up
 Guerilla radio
 Quit it now