Fight Club

This is a fight club, come strapped with the right gloves
And light one for those cats that had to bite dust
For a lump sum, so pump one fist in the air
If you ain't done yet

Well some picket, in fact they're shocked at a blockade
Now who stole the soul? We must be on cruise control
Used to know what the next day's headlines hold
Breadline stays paper thin, truth is there's no escaping it
If your little nephew's favour slips
When he asks his manager to change his shift and he's made to quit
Savour your freedom while you have it
Just have a barbecue and argue with your mate just out of habit
While you-know-who peers through that gap in the back fence
The one deporting Aussies who speak with foreign accents
And then says to workers "Keep your backs bent"
That they got your suburb on lockdown, shit's no accident
An ill plot and we be watching them hatch it
Catch glue to Terry Hatcher, their
Leader's more corrupt than Maggie Thatcher
We need a man of stature, or a woman of stature
Or some poor bastard with half a heart for that matter
Still never heard the distant clatter of an empty shell
Still waiting to wake up, waiting for that rebel yell
No one's saying it's all right, you cop a pounding
Ducking and weaving, last round rings

This is a fight club, come strapped with the right gloves
And light one for those cats that had to bite dust
For a lump sum, so pump one fist in the air
If you ain't done yet

It's like "woop, woop", that's the sound of the police
You bring a sniffer dog to the club or the beach
And they double their reach every time we disturb the peace
Catch-22, make you wonder what their purpose is
Their position, dodgy commissions and inquests
Who set the mood and the time, who you invest
Lay back, relax and ingest a bitter pill
It really comes down to if you won't or if you will
'Cause there's a queue around the corner about a block long
No change at the top though we admit we got a lot wrong
It's so hard to get good intelligence these days
And you'll get locked away if we cannot pronounce your name
The crazy thing is that as a skiff they'll buy me
But if I was a Muslim, my own mother couldn't find me
Gotta speak from the heart like Sleek, Child of the Cedar
My contribution will make it wild in the speaker
I couldn't give a fuck if I was preaching to believers
'Cause for one I never preach, I just spout it how I seen it
So polish up your knuckledusters, we don't trust them
And they don't trust us, well that ain't no justice

This is a fight club, come strapped with the right gloves
And light one for those cats that had to bite dust
For a lump sum, so pump one fist in the air
If you ain't done yet
This is a fight club, come strapped with the right gloves
And light one for those cats that had to bite dust
For a lump sum, so pump one fist in the air
If you ain't done yet