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M.O.D. lyrics

Album: Dictated Aggression [1996]

 01  Dictated Aggression
 02  Silence Your Sin
 03  Damaged
 04  Shot Glass
 05  Stand Or Fall
 06  One Was Johnny
 07 Nation
 08  Empty Visions
 09  In My Shoes
 10  U.S. Dreams
 11  Hippypotomus
 12  Just Got Fired
 13  Whiteout
 14  Brutal Beats
all M.O.D. lyrics

Dictated Aggression
Enter, tanks, from blue skies above
Raining down terror on all that you
Majestic hills that roll, under tank treads
Are painted with puddles from the recently dead

Coalitions set up to reign
New conditions, new thoughts to train
Mass solution, we must confide
Is mustard gas, with your ass on rye

Armor divisions, impervious pain
Religious collusion, new gods ordained
Mighty contusion, scarring the land
Dictated aggression, dictated man

Napalm coktails, served up hot
Claymore showers, soothe your guts
The re-conditioned, show no alarm
We re-conditioned them with our smart bombsback to top
Silence Your Sin
I choked on a piece of the american dream
The taste of blood, apple pie
Scars and stripes, was enough to make me scream
I cried as a piece of the rock went south
It crossed the border at half past twelve
Thanks to that dick, in the white house

Speak with your heart
With your heart you will pay
Think your own thoughts
Your rights are cast away
Fit in the mold, then
You get to plant your seed

But...silence your sin

I wipe my tears as I gaze at the red, white and blue
I think of god and of family pride who were
Sacrificed, for shit like you
It burns, to watch your flag, go in flames
I see the fire burning up, from thunderbird
And people hazeback to top
Get yourself a razor blade
Get yourself a video
Drown your thoughts with J.B.
Masquerade your misery

No need to hide your attitude
No ones here to listen
Scrambled thoughts, now scrambled eggs
Your nostrils caked and gustened

Floating in your cosmic sewer
Of love, peace and horse manure
You decide to hitch a ride with
Captain Kaos on pesticide
Fill your head with empty thoughts
Of mistletoe and sugar plum demons
Stoke the furnance, the flame glows brighter
Laughing as your face grows whiter

No need to hide your solitude
When no one ever listens
Building your own arsenal
Of hatred and misgivings

You're fucking damagedback to top
Shot Glass
I greet the day with anger, bombs and verbal threats
I lift my head, in dread, of things not yet
Lets have a drink, then throw up in the fucking sink
Shot glass...shot glass
If your in sight
There's gonna be a fight
Shot glass...shot glass
It's me and you and shots enough for two
I drink the drink, I drink,
Until I drink again
I see the day, my eyes are glazed and pinnedback to top
Stand Or Fall
I read the writing on the shit house walls
The lines are drawn, we must stand or fall
We the people, polarized
Can't even think to sympatize

If there's no justice
There's no peace
We must unite
To get aside
The woe and grief
A final stride
Must confide
MAy never come to
Save our sorry hides

Go read the writings on the wall...Stand or fall

All this talk of race and war
Leaves speechless on the floor
The futures written in the past
Etched in the memories of cynicism's laughback to top
One Was Johnny
Little Johnny marched out to war
On another kind of human race
Killed a man from foreign land
With a shit eatin' grin on his face
That good ol'boy had a taste for war
And warnin' had it's taste
But he died like a schmuck
With his dick in his hand
And his balls...stuck to his face

One was Johnny, Johnny once was
More than a man with a government plan
And dog tags round his neck
One was Johnny, Johnny once was
The meanest mother youever did see
He put your ass in was Johnny

Johnny came home in a body bag
With a purple heart on his vest
It don't matter that they shipped the
Wrong legs, head, arms and chest
They had a parade in Johnny's name
People came from miles around
They buried his ass on soleme grass
With the people singing this song

Johnny's little boy marched out to war
On another kind of human race
Killed a man from a foreign land
With a shit eatin' grin on his face
Johnny's little boys' a psychopath
With vengence at his taste
So killed some schmuck with his
Fucking peace sign that pissed...right on his faceback to top
Empty Visions
Turn the TV on, don't touch that dial
Watch the video's, on the latest styles
Smash or trash, just 95 cents a call
Get your fix, fix your head, right said Fred
Real worlds, comin' through just for you
Top ten, comin' through just for you
Our voice, comin' through just for you

Pledge your faith
The tunes are blastin'
The atest fashion
Watch the ratings soar
As morals come down crashing
We're the demigods
And we're here to stay

On empty V..U.S.A.

The T.V.'s on and uncle Tom is watching, just for you
Made his fame from buttheads name
Thanks too the likes of you
Cobain is dead, but not for long
We got his ass unplugged, pardon the pun
Real worlds comin' through just for you
Top ten comin' through just for you
Our voice comin' through just for you

Empty visions, Empty Vback to top
In My Shoes
Equal rights, don't apply
Quata calls, aren't civil rights
Split the vote, split the state
Split the house, income rape
Doors are shut, need not apply
There's no one here to fight for my rights

Walk the straight line
Left then the right
I live the injusted
Of liberal insight

Motor vote, I say motorhead
I work a job, I don't lay in bed
Payed my dues, pay my way
I earned the right too have my say
I'm sick to death, of liberal views
The liberal fools are fucking you to

You'll know what I'm saying
When you walk in my shoesback to top
U.S. Dreams
Rise and shine
Crossing boarders can be fun
Causing crime
No relief from what you've done

Refried beans, U.S. dreams
Pancho villa lives next door to me

Time to ride
In your chevy you look sharp
Rising crimes
Broken bottles in the park

Jesus Christ
Those velvet paintings sure look nice
Pay the price
Oranges, pesos or your life

Baseball, apple pie, chevys U.S. dreamback to top
Chubby chick you look hip
When you dress up in tie die
So now what will you do that Jerry's dead
Will you finally wash your hair
And join the real world
Or wait for Bob Wier to tour instead

Everybody peace out
And look at the cool clouds

Granola parades, make up your weekend
Taking acid, eating your tofu
Wearing sandles, keeps you down to earth
When in reality, it's gravity versus girth

Miss Hippypottomus it's 1996
You gotta work to live
You just can't enjoy the trip...
Miss Hippypottomus

I really think that Jerry was ultra cool
But unlike you he's dead now who's the fucking foolback to top
Just Got Fired
Five across the eyes, sweat beads down my brow
I got a feeling and its pretty bad
I'll hide it just for now
Polish up the chrome, polish up my bone
Hanging out with six dumb, dumbs,
In my funeral home

Cross hairs, crossed paths
You die, I laugh
I leave, you bleed
I'm firing you, cause you fired me

I cash my final check, but you cash in your chips
You look kind of funny begging and crying
Like a bitch
You should have seen your face, when then
The dummies hit
You opened like a ripened, rotten bag of gutless shit
Cause I've just been fired
You die...
Just been firedback to top
Life is short in the SGT's house of pain
Endless suffering, is holy gain
Bamboo shoots and fingertips
Broken legs and feet will be dismissed

When others fail the SGT prevails...

Swollen eyes, not from tears of joy
Stick to his boots, then make a popping
Electric rod jammed down the shaft
Electricute your balls until they blast

When others fall the SGT prevails
Death...destruction...whiteoutback to top
Brutal Beats
It's the T to the rip
Slick and finger licken good like chicken
Possessed like Linda Blair, in exorcist
Can't front on the dragon, that's ludicrous
Your styles suckin', like a lollipop
Knock, knock who's there
Yo a buck a shot

Da fuckin black panther
Comin right at cha
Poisonous...I spread like cancer
Crews fuckin hate us, I'm mad fuckin famous
4 takin no shit and puttin boots up your anus
Ruthless...I'm leaving niggas toothless
I be da ill funk freaka blown out you speakers

Hard rhythms, complete
Brutal beats of concrete

But don't let tht trouble you
That's ruthless, spelled with an R and not A W
Mad like Alfred Newman
Bad, like Michael J's new chin
Kickin science harder then spock
Picken out victims like Furman with a glock
Buck, buck, buck, shots be ringing out
Slam you ass like Hogan in title bout

Hard rhythms, complete
Brutal beats of concreteback to top
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