Refused Are Fucking Dead
Refused
Beyond ability and control we could be weekend lovers.
Steal a sentence and make a catch phrase parole for our revolution.
Whispered all across the street about the new cool call.
Or screamed at your face like a scabs payroll.
Faces like angels, licking our fingertips.
We don't have the patience to deal with it.
With battered bodies and puckered lips.
We don't have the patience to deal with it.
A naive young secret for the new romantics.
We express ourselves in loud and fashionable ways.
Yeah, get down, get down, yeah.
Can I get a witness?
This I gotta see.
Bring it in one more time for me x2
We don't have the patience yet.