Middle Finger Response Lyrics - How To Clean Everything - Propagandhi

Bowl of cherries in Waskasio Creek. A sylvan way of life for those who seek 

none beyond a parkland mall. This land scape oasis now feigns city hall. And 

they call this peace. That's not how it seems to me. Sugar-coated disease. 

Buckle at the knees. Your members of Parliament lining their garments with 

hides of the masses (THEIR heads stuck up their asses.) Bald little soldiers 

Flags sewn to their shoulders. This insight spawns despair. 

Why am I not part of this? Pine cone wealth and cedar-fence bliss? All your 

novel themes that keep you amused on your way to the Canadian, 

flag-waving-aryan, cunt/cock/ass/mother/father/finger/butt/blood/booger 

sucking/fucking/shitting/farting/picking/flicking/dicking 

dream!!! Oh yeah! 

Nobody cares about the state of affairs. You can turn blue in the face, but 

you cannot erase. Oblivious to the obvious. I'm making perfect sense but I'm 

not getting through. Progress overdue. But!!! 

...don't expect to find me with a note keft to be read. Pistol in my hand and 

a bullet in my head. Because the census indicates and this atlas has related 

3 billion hymns I haven't irritated. I've got alot of work to do. 3 billion 

people. That's 3 billion snotty FUCK YOU's. 

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