Text: Discharge. But After the Gig.

Leather and sweat fills the atmosphere
Stretchin and drippin just to pogo too
The anarchy show they shout it out
There ís no real music And I'm just shoutin and screamin'
But that ís a response to an anarchist meeting
But after the gig is my true bender
Every shake back to me goes
Poor lambs this is a fuckin slaughter
You think that this is a turn of phrase

Realism is what we're preachin
Are you really so afraid?