Social Sterility

Napalm Death

[misprinted a "Social Security" (!) on the liner notes]



Time for my omittance

From a sterile existance

Where the weekend pays homage

To stereotypical perpetuation



Must inebriate my senses

Into a state of delirium

Before I turn to the meat-rack

For my penial selection



Apathy spreads

In unison with social disease

A scourge that infests

The cattle markets of youth



Unconscious, just promiscuous

Deprived of self-respect

In the selling of their bodies

All emotions dead!



Thoughts absorbed

Lost in sense of direction

It's time to sit down

And reassess my course of action