TORCHES TO ROME LYRICS

"The Guards Are Itchy"

The scent of idle threats in the air
To yellow to try it - to fed to care
Someone had a degree to tell us
None of it was fair, but

We had a great big march
With flags and banners,
A police escort.
They kept us down - kept us away
From the good side of town
When we crawl hate in hand
Our black block marching on Disneyland
Ask who holds the keys to cages
Who drew up the fucking plans not me...

What will it be this time
Just choose your cause to clear your conscience
How can we stand blind behind lines so ill defined
What do you think it means to be free to fight
Under their designs?
Where does your anger lead
As it fits a patterned need?
We wind up rebels fashioned
Under lock and key
Under lock and key

We had a grand parade
Did you happen to hear
The cops got paid
We pranced around
Like we owned the fucking town
When we crawl hate in hand
Our black bloc marching on Disneyland
Ask who's poised upon the rooftops
With hollow point shells in hand, not me...

Who's to name?
Who's to name?

Thanks to Peterpunk for these lyrics

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