Motörhead Follow

Here we are in confusion
Could be it's all an illusion
Who knows the times to come
The years to face, the race to run

We believe in the graven image
We believe in the fight to the finish
We desire the almighty dollar
The pound of flesh, the golden collar

Lick the hand, we leave our land for dogs

Here we are in the years
The blood, the sweat and the tears
Have made us bondage slaves
In a world that we never made

The politicians lick your bones
The tacticians, hearts of stone
They turn us against our brothers

Locked in lust, we put our trust in dogs

And now here we are again
The dead still look the same
Who cares, they're soon forgotten
Nobody gonna miss a corpse that's rotten

Your fathers, daughters, mothers and sons
Have been taken by the chosen ones
But don't forget you've made the choice
You've made your mark, you've raised your voice

They're all the same, you're all to blame
They're all the same, you're all to blame
They're all the same and you're all to blame
You're dogs, dogs

Here we are in confusion
Could be it's all an illusion
Who knows the times to come