“That’s fine, dude I ain’t mad at you” So he thought he’d treat her to A bullet or two Maybe the third one killed her When they denied her medical help On the day the USA Turned the gun on itself
They pepper sprayed him But it wasn’t enough For trigger happy agents High on acting tough His last words “Are you okay” To the woman that he helped On the day the USA Turned the gun on itself
Smart uniforms, microphones And blatant lies Middle class protesters Threatened agent’s lives The world watched in horror At what could’ve been themselves On the day the USA Turned the gun on itself
When the price you pay for freedom Is a classroom of dead children Your second amendment rights Viewed through iron sights The way you see yourself On the day the USA Turned the gun on itself On the day the USA Turned the gun on itself
Oh Lord, so cold, Minnesota Oh Lord, so cold, Minnesota Oh Lord, so cold, Minnesota Minnesota, oh Lord, so cold
These streets, oh Lord, where George was killed These streets, oh Lord, still feel the chill These streets, oh Lord, where George was killed Minnesota, oh Lord, so cold
These streets, oh Lord, where he shot Renée Good These streets, oh Lord, just because he could These streets, oh Lord, where he shot Renée Good Minnesota, oh Lord, so cold
These streets, oh Lord, where they gunned Alex down These streets, oh Lord, shot him on the ground These streets, oh Lord, where they gunned Alex down Minnesota, oh Lord, so cold
The sun’s gonna shine on Minnesota, oh Lord The sun’s gonna shine on Minnesota, oh Lord The sun’s gonna shine on Minnesota, oh Lord Minnesota, oh Lord, so cold
He’s a gangster, he’s a liar Won’t even tell the truth about his height and his weight He’s a rapist, he’s a grifter He’s President of the United States He was the first one to bomb Iran He’s got masked agents roaming the streets No-one’s safe from a Trump firearm He’s got all the guns and now he’s bored of peace He’s bored of peace He’s bored of peace He’s bored of peace
He’s got a bible, he didn’t read it He says god wants him to lead the Race You had your warning, you didn’t heed it Now he’s President of the United States He’s a colonist, he’s a sinner Gonna carve up Gaza piece by piece He’s got a medal but he’s no prize-winner He’s got all the guns and now he’s bored of peace He’s bored of peace He’s bored of peace He’s bored of peace
He’ll buy you off or just invade ya He profits from the chaos he creates Greenland or Venezuela He’s President of the United States Rubio, Witkoff, Kushner, Blair The worst reputations in the middle east An open invitation to the billionaire He’s got all the guns and he’s bored of peace He’s bored of peace He’s bored of peace He’s bored of peace He’s bored of peace He’s bored of peace He’s bored of peace
When your silence is compliance Raise your voice When your silence is compliance Raise your voice Raise your voice When your silence is compliance Raise your voice When your silence is compliance Raise your voice Raise your voice When your silence is compliance Raise your voice When your silence is compliance Raise your voice
Regime change, like a nappy never pleasant Happy New Year from the 47th President Kidnapped in your PJ’s with your missus in tow No warm welcome in Mar-a-Lago It’s all helicopters and prison fatigues Who’d have what Donny wants in times like these He’s swapping blood for oil in a murderous coup Only the blood is yours and the oil is too
Invading Venezuela, it’s gonna pay ya Invading Venezuela’s gonna pay the bills
Colombia, Mexico, where is he next to go Greenland better understand he ain’t afraid of NATO Afraid of NATO, use your brain You lot shit the bed when they invaded Ukraine Yeah, Russia is smilin’, China is smilin’ The dictator roundabout is doing just fine, it’s A blood for oil swap in a murderous coup Except the blood is yours and the oil is too
Invading Venezuela, it’s gonna pay ya Invading Venezuela’s gonna pay the bills
Meanwhile in Florida, The Donald’s all smiles ‘Cause no one’s looking at the Epstein files Feeding the media different trials Just gotta fly the convict in 2000 miles But MAGA’s gonna need a big fentanyl high If they wanna keep turning a MAGA blind eye He’s swapping blood for oil in a murderous coup Only the blood is yours and the oil is too
Invading Venezuela, it’s gonna pay ya Invading Venezuela’s gonna pay the bills
Donroe doctrine, don’t care who’s watching 300 billion barrels and Chevron just clocked in Exxon and Halliburton shares just locked in All time high on the Dow Jones dropped in Invading Venezuela’s gonna pay your investor Your oil company and military directors He’s swapping blood for oil in a murderous coup Only the blood is yours and the oil is too
Invading Venezuela, it’s gonna pay ya Invading Venezuela’s gonna pay the bills
On a stormy night, I dreamed of Sid Vicious In the days after the Chelsea Hotel He said I’m running out of time And I’ve got a story to tell Of how he went by Simon or sometimes John And the things mum had done to get by He spoke of heroin and homelessness I let him talk and didn’t reply But then he said that it was Rotten Who’d first called him Sid And Rotten is as Rotten does But it was Malcolm who decided what they did He looked tired, but he could tell That there was something on my mind He paused and looked straight at me I said, Sid, I’ve got to ask why Why, he replied, and I wished I’d not started But he said, spit it out, kid Why, I repeated, finally Why the swastikas, Sid? He looked at his boots and said, you gotta understand The Pistols had to be a hit We needed all the shock that we could muster To shake them all up a bit Malcolm was a pervert and we were cartoons The war was over and the bad guys had lost We made good telly, you know how it is No one really counted the cost And it’s not like we were actually Nazis Just by sporting the kit Not even Lemmy, he added And he really loved that shit Quite the collection of memorabilia Uniforms, knives, flags and belts But Lemmy wasn’t a Nazi He just thought he was better than everyone else But I’ll tell you this, his voice was fading I would never wear one now It was a bit of punk fun in ‘77 But you’ve just got to look around We had the NF pantomime fascists In coopted braces and boots But never politicians and billionaires Throwing up Nazi salutes No, I wouldn’t ever wear one now, Sid said Because someone will wear it and mean it Don’t tell me you never watch TV Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it I would never wear one now, he said I would never wear one now One stormy night, I dreamed of Sid Vicious Though he was long since dead It was the days after the Chelsea Hotel And this is what he said
You are what you read but all you read is your feed You are what you watch just YouTube and Tiktoks You are what you listen to, Model T music Written by robots, use it or lose it
Slop in, slop out Slop in, slop out Slop in, slop out
They sold the lifestyle, you bought the tat Broken tomorrow, never mind that They sold the sizzle, but you bought the sausage Stare at the screen, that’s where the slop is
Slop in, slop out Slop in, slop out Slop in, slop out
You know where this ends In the arms of your virtual girlfriend
Slop in, slop out, Model T music Slop in, slop out, Model T music Slop in, slop out Model T music
A date with Suno, where will you go She steals the tunes, just so you know It’s all a remix, Model T music Written by robots, use it or lose it
Slop in, slop out Slop in, slop out Slop in, slop out
You know where this ends In the arms of your virtual girlfriend
Slop in, slop out, Model T music Slop in, slop out, Model T music Slop in, slop out Model T music
Where will the musos go When Suno makes the tunes Where will the brushes go When the artist is AI Who will make the art When the robot eats the artists When the robot is a thief Then the art is just a lie
Where will the authors go When the program writes the novels Who will draw cartoons When the satire is AI Who will make the art When the robot eats the artists When the robot is a thief Then the art is just a lie
When the art is just a lie When the art is just a lie Who will sing songs by and by Write the books that make you cry Paint the most amazing sky When the art is just a lie
When computers take to stages In empty concert halls And galleries are filled With no feelings at all How then to be human When the art is all AI When the art has no soul When the art is just a lie
When the art is just a lie When the art is just a lie Who will sing songs by and by Write the books that make you cry Paint the most amazing sky When the art is just a lie
Steve White & The Protest Family 