Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Against All Odds, artist - Conflict.
Date of issue: 25.03.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Against All Odds |
How can we achieve anarchy if we don’t know what it means? |
Do we even want anarchy that illusionistic dream? |
They say they see no reason for discontent |
In this period of free enterprise, is evolution spent? |
Say their progress is insallable, presented indisguised |
Decisions made for all is their responsibility? |
They forecast better ways to better days; |
onwards they seek progress no matter |
what it takes |
From left to right to all the prats in the middle |
From the judge to the preacher to the sinners and the cynical |
From the Godley to the gullible to the vicious and viable |
The globe turns slowly while the governed and ungovernable |
Slay it out in the never ending search for righteousness, immaculate success |
Their space to possess seems to be what makes their clock tick, but to us it |
fucking stinks |
When met with resistance, they stamp on it until it breaks |
Their society remains secret and although we know their name |
We are the pawns on the world’s chessboard in one big multi-national game |
There’s still no end in sight but still we know we’re right |
We must somehow struggle on up while they go racing to the top |
Then Whitehouse «V» the squat, a challenge I think not |
Resist every move they make by fulfilling our own hearts |
Not by backing off and dropping out, get in there for a start |
If you’re looking for some proof of this how much more proof do you need |
When constantly and hopelessly we fail and they succeed |
There’s no compassion in here |
My fingers keep curling into fists these days |
No one smiles on the streets these days |
And there’s no compassion |
Hit the wall a substitute for a face |
You can look but you can’t touch |
You can see but you can’t have |
Keep crawling to the end of the week |
And there’s no compassion |
Breath heavy to pretend it’s fun |
Raise the cover to protect your pride |
Ignore the failure that you see in the glass |
Paint the flesh to hide the scar |
And there’s no compassion |
A million people died in the middle of your breakfast |
A million people died in the middle of your favorite love song |
A million people died in the middle of your racist joke |
A million people died in the middle of your favorite TV programme |
A million people died in the middle of your lovemaking |
A million people died in the middle of your pop stars interview |
A million people died in the middle of your video game |
A million people died in the middle of your sexist |
A million people died in the middle of your mass debating |
A million people died in the middle of your politicians lying |
A million people died in the middle of your silence |
A million people died in the middle of your stocks and shares |
A million people died in the middle of your royal variety performance |
A million people died in the middle of your debutante’s ball |
A million people died in the middle of your day out at Ascot |
A million people died in the middle of a Conflict gig! |
Separation is complete. |
A mind to domesticate, condition, compete |
Clinical birth control, the sterlised setting |
Syringed into being, life is just beginning |
Mask of the surgeon, eyes of the blind, rubber band caressing, welcome to |
mankind |
The brain perceives the fear, tender beats the heart |
Slapped into life programming starts |
Wanted and needed |
Wanted from birth to fit in the jigsaw puzzle |
Trained don’t strain against the muzzle |
Force-fed, prostituted, brainwashed that’s called learning |
Blindfolded, prejudiced, an outcome predetermined |
Needed to die and not question why |
Follow in ignorance, a comfortable prison |
Kept in the dark so they can be free. |
Spit in the eyes so you will never see |
The kid aims the cap gun, points it at my cranium |
I am supposed to put my hands up, but I don’t want to die that way |
Mentally or physically, para-psychologically, whose responsibility? |
Is it to feed their profiteering tolerated as long as your mind is fearing? |
Right where they want you beaten back into submission |
Right where they want you in a missionary position |
Needed to promote their glory of possession |
To accept and be grateful yet ask no questions |
To believe in love and their guiding hand |
To obey in humility and never understand |
I was feeling alright, yeah just me and the night; |
I was walking through a |
white tiled subway |
I heard the sound of voices around the corner shouting |
The sound of broken glass, no one was there |
I looked at my reflection in the puddles in the street |
It looked so messed up I just kept moving my feet |
To the beat and rhythm of my heart, not much I know but I see it as a start |
Because I’m counting the heads to see how many are left, the fingers of one |
hand stretching |
And this feeling of apathy keeps coming quite suddenly — well if something’s |
gonna come, when’s it coming? |
While you’re jumping on the spot, all the freshness starts to rot |
And another inspiration fades away. |
And still you sell your dignity |
Still you sell your dignity time after time |
And I wonder where lies your pride, does it wait in there inside? |
Is it waiting for the moment when you let your heart speak? |
Is it waiting for the moment when you act out your own beliefs? |
Is it waiting for the moment when you drop your false act? |
Is it waiting for the moment when you face the facts? |
That you’re pumping your life for someone else’s ideas |
That you’re living your life under someone else’s fear |
That it’s time to shift your vision, time to move your head |
Get up out of submission. |
I’m counting heads, how many are left? |
The fingers of one hand keep stretching. |
The fingers of both hands keep |
stretching |
And all I see is «Rock 'n' Roll». |
All I hear is «Rock 'n' Roll» |
I turn the pages of the book, and force my weary eyes to look |
At the product of our modern world, at the product of our civilised world |
And a child’s face looks out at me, questioning why does this have to be? |
And I can’t find any answer, not that dead ears can hear — do I make myself |
clear? |
It’s been said that we must progress for humanity, but looking at the truth of |
that mockery |
I wonder if our minds have progressed anywhere, and I wonder if there’s any |
humanity there |
The sightless eyes looking at me, questioning why does this have to be |
And I can’t find any answers not that dead ears can hear — do I make myself |
clear? |
If you’re an activist not while getting pissed |
If you’re gonna do something make sure you don’t miss |
That’s a dangerous game to play what use are you if you’re banged up? |
You can’t beat them on the streets, so duck and dive a little, hide the fiddles |
Play them at their own game, stay with them all the way |
Know what and why they are doing things and create alternatives |
Police are still snooping, awaiting the big nick |
Like fishermen baiting the fish, tempting us to take the risk |
This time, this time they’ve made the impossible |
The new aids infection from EMI the treatment to replace the old spermicide |