Napalm Death Album

At time of birth,
Minds free from suspicion,
Senses raped,
Induced with superstition.

A pre-set mode
To befit description,
Language, colour,
Race definition!

Inner strength must detect
The love we each possess
before we may reach,
Appreciating it in anyone else.

External distinctions
Used as scapegoats to problems,
Channelling our aggression
In the wrong direction.

Break down the barriers
That enforce superstition
Learn to trust,
Overcome suspicion.

Acceptance, the weapon,
Active against our freedom,
Our love and compassion
Held at treason.

Rise above induced superstition.

An integral sense
Comes with belonging to a scene
Supposedly absent of barriers
(When sexism is only one of many)

Earnest words
Calling for unity of the sexes
When she's still the chick, or stupid bitch
(Ridiculed for showing an interest).

Hidden indifference
Strikes an emotion reaction
When you see an animal being abused.

Yet un-noticed when a woman
Is abused in the same way.

The links in oppression
Stem from the same degradation
But to one our eyes remain closed.

Actively abusing the rights of one
Whilst fighting for those of another.

The 'scene' may hold a different name,
But the roleplays just the same.
Egual rights are fine,
As long as she's in her place.

Outrightly denouncing fascism
Whilst oblivious to it taking place,
Is condemnation of standarts,
All an act to save face.

Unity a stark ambition
When out abuse surpasses recognition

Your aspirations, unable to stretch,
Beyond the barriers of what's expected,
As the free thought you were born with
Becomes externally polluted.

Lose sight of your ideals
In their brainwashing institutions,
Predetermine your values
To befit your substandard existence...
Discouraging creativity,
To aim for empty ambitions.

Living up to others expectations.
Takes hold of your assiduity.

Mentally murdered!

Always up to the mark,
Set the wheels in motion,
A fake sense of security
From your invariable position.

Sinking in the crowd,
A face minus expression.
A mouth that echoes words,
Recycled from tradition.

Your only contentness
Is in living a lie.

Mentally murdered!

Do you possess the strength
To re-create your own life?

Before my eyes I see a wall,
12, 000 miles high,
And the same amount wide.

Within that wall are faces
Of people
To whom I once could relate.

Now communicating seems hard,
When there's an ego barrier to break through.

Opinions of self opinion
Cloud a new horizon,
The vision a mere illusion.

Biased in conclusion,
Trapped in seclusion,
To the outside - exclusion.

When an attitude is so biased,
What can you expect to change?

Banging your head,
But the wall's not moving,
It's enclosing.

Burning so much energy
Enthusiasm burning
Is change the 'real' obsession?

Or with a sense of pretention,
Do you merely stive for cedible attention?

What are your motives,
For your abuse,
What can they be?
Accused of things
I've never done,
This seems strange.

Your motivation, for my humiliation.

I'm pressurised,
So many times
By your presence,
Your very existance
Has become
My obsession.

My infatuation with you damnation.

I experience
Dangerous thoughts,
That are all too real,
How can one man
Inflict in me
So much hate.

My obsession with your destruction

So we're still in our teething stages
As far as politics are concerned
That's fine coming from someone
To whom sensationalism be there only wisdom in words.

A self-proclaimed spokesman
On something to which prior knowledge excedes,
Championing no more censorship,
Then ridiculing our beliefs.

To appeal to your better nature,
Are we to keep our mouths shut?

Easy to discard
Constructive power
At your disposal
When ego's and sales
Outbalance opinions
On the scales.

Using bands
As pawns in your hands
Building up,
Knocking down,
Sensationalize
To suit cheap public demand.

Merging with the gutter press,
You claim to detest.

It's opened it's lid,
For you to crawl in and infest