Farce And Fiction

Napalm Death · Order Of The Leech [2002]

I chase my toil

Hammering a nail against the grain of fact

I keep on bouncing back

Misinformation is passed



Look left to the right, always fight or fight

I painfully dissect, will never take as read

Yet fall back to earth as the wretch

Which suits them fucking fine



Mister pessimism, a trait we'd all rather give up

Mister pessimism, after this it comes so natural



Reserving judgment wounds me time after time

Exploitation becomes a daily grind

Take a saccharine shot, not to humor the fuckers

But the scheming scum have all bases covered

Which suits you fucking fine



From a catalog of lies, there is scant protection

So you see dependability is farce and fiction

Which suits you fucking fine