About "How To Clean Everything" album:
This page contains lyrics from the album
"How To Clean Everything" by Propagandhi, which was released in 1994 and consists of 6 songs.
It's something physical. It's a conditioned reaction. It's something physical.
It's a conditioned attraction. But have I finally escaped? Will my eyes no
Longer rape the innocent womyn, children: humyn beings?? Seeing the pain that
It brings. Shallow, superficial decision(s). Real beauty obscured by my tunnel
/ tele-vision. But this just in! Bikini film at 10:00 pm!! The female anchor
Just smiles and shrugs it off, "Boys wil be boys!" But do really want to be
Our fucking toys?!? And in again, just condone it with a grin. Sit back, idly
Chat, smile, prove your just a fuck machine. Conditioned reaction. Conditioned
Attraction. Conditioned suggestion. Conditioned rejection.
And yet again, subjecting women. The female anchor's fist finally clenched.
Head? Chest? Or Foot?
Three choices. One bullet.
One trigger. Guess who
Gets to pull it? One leader. One
Thousand slaves. For every
Throne there's one thousand
Graves. (give or take a grave)
You're all the same. Just part
Of their machine. Perpetuate
Their dream. They subsidize
Your nightclubs and they
Middle Finger Response
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,
We spoke our minds too clearly,
We assumed fundamental rights.
Were inherent not as pawns but humans.
I do not require a gauge for freedoms of speech
Cuz I never asked to be a citizen.
I never have and never will pledge allegiance...
Waking up each morning with confusion in my eyes.
The wind is biting through to wave hello.
Seeing my reflection, an exterior of lies.
I hope this shaky feeling doesn't show.
This Might Be Satire
Well I wanna chwe my bubble gum with you. And I wanna walk you home from
School. And I wanna carry your books to every class. And I wanna fuck you up
The ass. Aw girl, you know it's true how much I love you. I wanna sing it
Across the land. Aww, won't you hold my hand... Hold my, she tells me that she
Loves me and I'm gonna tell her that I love her. She tells me that she loves
Me now I'm gonna try to fuck her. But where the hell are my priorities. Left
In the hands of the authorities. Yeah, baby.
Who Will Help Me Bake This Bread?
I speak my mind. I question theirs. It seems to me like no one really cares.
Peripherally blind. Intellectually numb. Ignorance by choice? or just plain
Fucking dumb? You're threatened by my mind. You want everything the same. But
My questions still remain. You boycott your brain. You answer with fists. But
My questions rearrange my mind. You can beat this shell about me, but you
Can't touch what's inside. So now who will help me bake this bread? Who will
Be the first to speak and leave complacency for dead? I've done all that I
Can on my own. But stagnant minds persist to squeeze blood from this stone.
But I won't bleed for you. I have no need for you. Death will be the day I
Conceed to you. (As you can see, I really mean bussiness, Poot!)
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