They say they like it, now, but in the market it
May not go well as it´s too laid back.
You need some oomph-papa, nothing like
Frank Zappa
And not New Wave they don´t play that crap

Tyr beating your head on a brick wall
Hard like a stone
Don´t have time for the music
They want the blood from a clone

I hear a clock ticking
I feel the nitpicking
I almost quit kicking at the wall
There seems a confusion, under the illusion
That they know just what will suit you all

Beating my head on a brick wall
Hard like a stone
Ain´t got time for the music
They want the blood from a clone

There is no sense to it

Pure pounds and pence to it
They´re so intense too makes me amazed
Don´t want no music but, they´re making you
sick with
Some awful noises that may get played

By beating their heads on a brick wall
Hard like a stone
Ain´t no messing ´round with music
Give them the blood from a clone

Where will it all lead us
I thought we had freed us
From the mundane seems I´m wrong again
Could be they lack roots, they´re still wearing
jack boots they´re
Marching somewhere in the pouring rain

Beating my head on a brick wall
Hard like a stone
Don´t have time for the music
They want the blood from a clone