Kill Generation

June 21, 2012

Hand them a mobile to say their goodbyes
To their loved ones at home that they’re leaving behind
Force them to fight for a line in the sand
A “Kill Generation” with a gun in their hand

 

War Crime, War Crime
It started with a handshake
But now you’re on fire

 

No god can give you unquestionable rights
Belief is no basis for intelligent life
A guilt ridden grin showing white rotten teeth
A War of attrition fed by greed and deceipt

 

War Crime, War Crime
It started with a handshake
But now you’re on fire

 

Kill Generation
Kill Generation
Kill Generation

 

You sold our sons for the lowest price
An Upturned vehicle from a homemade device
Build them new limbs, teach them to walk
Hide them away but don’t let them talk

 

War Crime, War Crime
It started with a handshake
But now you’re on fire

 

Victims remember what you did with a lie
Picking through charred remains of their lives
Where are your gods and your masters now
Victims remember. It’s a long way down.

 

Words by Mark from Last Under The Sun

 

Death on Credit

June 21, 2012

Join the “Cult of Amateur” here
Selfish, Malignant, inducer of greed
Infested with thousands, the fields are alive

 

Open your eyes
Take a good look
At the yellowing crust
You’re stuck on a hook
The Spread of the rot
There’s plague on this land
Bring out your dead

 

A thousand wired networks corrupting the grid
Insatiable swarm of digital grubs
Encrusting the ploughshare, destroying the crop

 

Open your eyes
Take a good look
At the yellowing crust
You’re stuck on a hook
The Spread of the rot
There’s plague on this land
Bring out your dead
Bring out your dead

 

Death on Credit, Death On Credit

 

Death on Credit, Death On Credit
The song of the rats, leaving the sinking ship
What will you do when the money runs out?

 

Death on Credit, Death On Credit
The frozen gates of hell, at last, swing open
A spark of hope, the blink of a madman

 

Death on Credit, Death On Credit
Strung from a hook, locked in a block of ice
Condemned to a death by a thousand cuts

 

Death on Credit, Death On Credit
Condemned to a death by a thousand cuts

 

Words by Mark from Last Under The Sun

Death's Rifles

June 21, 2012

No response to the order
Nothing can make you answer them
No Acceptance of the paper
No Signature or mark
Stood motionless
Arms crossed with bowed heads
Not the aim of Death’s Rifles
Will ever make them work

 

The world is a step outside
A grey sunless prison
You could drop where you stand
No one made it out of here alive
To the mines or the marshland
Where the wild cherry grows
Not the aim of Death’s Rifles
Could ever make us work

 

It’s all in your mind

 

All in your mind

 

Not the freezing of the skin
Or the cut of the razor
Not the line of shallow graves
Waiting in the cold

 

Beneath a halo of hissing insects
And all the summer knows
Not the aim of Death’s rifles
Could ever make us work

 

The world is a step outside
A grey sunless prison
You could drop where you stand
No one made it out of here alive

 

Words by Mark from Last Under The Sun

Faaacebook

June 21, 2012

They outlawed our kind
We took to the hills
The forest of never be found
At night we sit beneath a starlit sky
Is this the meaning of Free?

 

What Kind of plan takes the food from their hands
Expects us to do as they say
We’ll fight to the death until the last man down
Ideas cannot die?

 

Learn the maze, stay on the screen
Only take what they give you for free

 

Borders are not for keeping you out
They’re for keeping the slaves inside
Sign up today, all they want is a name
How much will it cost you to play?

 

People will one day return to this place
Take the company down
But, you play on the screen, you want it for free
You do anything just to be seen

 

Learn the maze, share it for free
Only take what they give you for free

 

Faaacebook
Chaos, mayhem

 

“The Sun will shine down
on your enemy
Which is everybody”

 

Words will be lost forever
Ideas forgotten
They’ll fill you with nothing
They’ll take all your time

 

How long will it take for the barbed wire to break
For the walls to be smashed to the ground

 

You play on the Screen, Entertainment for free
How much is the true cost of free?

 

“The Sun will shine down
On your enemy
Which is everybody
Like Flowers”
Like Flowers

 

You play on the screen
You take it for free
How much does it cost
The true cost of free?

 

Words by Mark from Last Under The Sun

 

Hooligan Jihad

June 21, 2012

Hooligan-jihad-1600x1600-colour

50 Dogs, Broken Burner
Freezing Squat, No Light

 

Hooligan Jihad

 

Gender Terror, Ice Cream
Hand-woven, Vegan Kitchen

 

Hooligan Jihad

 

Broken Sink, Plum Vodka
Pedal Power, Banana Wine

 

Hooligan Jihad
Hooligan………………………Jihad

 

You can’t play crust in fucking flip-flops…..

 

You ruined my crust dream with your fucking flip-flops….

 

Hey Mark…let’s go buy kuemmerling…..one hit….coma

 

Hooligan Jihad
Hooligan Jihad
Hoo -Li -Gan -Ji -Had

 

Words by Mark from Last Under The Sun – Hooligan Jihad CD

Beautane

June 21, 2012

Last_under_the_sun_-_beautane_1600x1600

One Last prayer to the god of despair
(no going home, there’s nowhere to go)
one more drop for the firing squad
(youre up to the wall, up to the wall)
the shot will stop you dead on the spot

 

all i hear, the railway lines, how many years will it take

 

nothing but the long slow drop
(no turning back, its all going black)
how deep will you go, into the hole
(into the hole, youre into the hole)
huddled masses, cold in the dark

 

all i see, the black and white, flickering screen of despair

 

the sun burns down, on a desert world
nothing but concrete and waste
i see it all, i see it all, through a can of butane

 

money buys, all you dont need,
a stab in the back for your greed
i see it all, i see it all, i see all time stands still

 

I’m beautiful, so beautiful, with a can of beau-tane

 

Words by Mark from Last Under The Sun – Hooligan Jihad CD

Gone

June 21, 2012

Today could be a good day
Today could be our last day
You never know your time to die
My days are spent far underground
Away from infra red and gunsights
They’ll never find us here

 

Ill put them back
Ill put them back into the ground

 

The trees keep me invisible
No human eye will ever find me
I wont come quietly
There are no devils in these hearts
But their actions cannot pass me
I’ll take them one by one

 

Ill put them back
I’ll put them back into the ground

 

Ill put them back

 

Words by Mark from Last Under The Sun – Hooligan Jihad CD

OK Bye

June 21, 2012

You keep us afraid
of what they might do
2 million walked the streets but still you went ahead
you sit in your chair
and think youre bullet proof
a stroke of your pen will send them to their death

 

youre just a chair man
protected by law
you offer justice
no one can afford
you watch on tv behind your walls
now we’ve come for you
come to stop your war

 

ok bye, ok bye, ok bye ……..etc (re do all these in your own style or your asian call centre woice…. but try and vary each one a little bit)

 

They Call You Chairman
the “madman”
how long can you ignore millions at your door
your “guns” on our streets
ordered to fire at …..
now we’ve come for you
we’ve come to stop your war…….

 

ok bye, ok bye, ok bye

 

Words by Mark from Last Under The Sun – Hooligan Jihad CD

More Helicopters

June 21, 2012

Last_under_the_sun_-_more-helicopters-cd-cover-colour-1600x1600px

Had me sign a dotted line
sent me out there doing time
trained me hard, worked my mind
we broke their hearts and blew their minds

 

how many people die
for a worthless cause
how many people die
i dont wanna die
in some desert war
i dont want to die

 

think of all of them back home
we’re out here fighting on our own
spend their time in politics
send us fighting into shit

 

how many people die
for some stupid war
how many people die
i dont want to die
in your fucking war
i dont want to die

 

now i’m coming home, now i’m coming home,
i dont want to die, i dont want to die
too many mistakes were made, to the sound of a rotarblade,
i dont want to die, i dont want to die
back from this living hell, to the land of the infidel,
i dont want to die, i dont want to die
back from this living hell, to the land of infidel,
i dont want to die, i dont want to die

 

and so i lie here waiting, time waits for no man here, they let us go in our own way

 

and so the money goes in, they fly the wounded back, how many people left behind?

 

Words by Mark from Last Under The Sun – Hooligan Jihad CD