Disorder

Disorder here cause you’re fucked
Wait it out
Those dirty blue boys lost again
They’ve got no style i write me own
Buying up bottle and precious stones
Burn the cops and renegades
Disorder
Don’t give a fuck
Work your bayonet off your gun
Now why not smash his head down
Your client talk about rocking the boat
Well your guts don’t seem to have had any luck
That bloke must have his fucking way
But we are nervous, but insane
The government are running scarred
The blues are bound to come in (one of)
These days
Grab your pay addict yourself
They bet your nothing by yourself
But one day we will have a say
But whatever happens you’d better beware
Disorder