Cure for the Common Complaint - Napalm Death

So drawn?

I warm to the fire in their hearts

This ain’t romantic gesturing

It’s a hand to head the charge

To the indifference of the preening, idle rich

Such champions are cancerous, tumours in the gut

of affluent bliss

Why let these scab observers tag them trouble-makers?

It’s naive?

You’re on a leash.

This is the cure for their common complaint

Ditch the gullibility

Strike 'til the green runs dry

bring them to their knees

Or squander as they thrive

Reject the cure for their common complaint

On break,

Agitate!

Hoist those standards, arm in arm

Walk the walk and talk the talk

Agitate!

Agitate!

Agitate!