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