Текст пісні
Here where the losers wear medals and nightshirts
Who talk revolution but could never let go
Watch executions in stereotactical
Teach elocution but could never say no
There's trash on the streets of London's old future
There's dust on the dreams of what might have been
We're painted by New York and someone's bad childhood
Between next year's Elvis and last year's James Dean
And sometimes it seems that you want right out on your children
Left them to ride on the crest of the tide that you drowned in
Suddenly we're the illegitimate sons of survival
Sons of survival
I told you before religion's just a fetish
But that's not quite right, it's more of a disease
You see me, you ask me, then watch on TV
'Cause they're guaranteed to keep you on your knees
Oh yeah, we've heard about the blacks
And what they did to our white women
We've heard about the missionaries who taught them all they knew
We know how it feels to be stuck on someone's outside
When the inside just isn't into you
And sometimes it seems that you want right out on your children
Left them to ride on the crest of the tide that you drowned in
Suddenly we're the illegitimate sons of survival
Sons of survival
And here where the new boys are blooded on old hands
Who show them the ropes while they're hanging around
Their touch is like ours but insidious and lasting
Their message transmitted in visible sound
And here where the fan clubs are mainlining madness
With image and business asleep side by side
To comforted bosses with profits and losses
Political units with nowhere to hide
And sometimes it seems that you want right out on your children
Left them to ride on the crest of the tide that you drowned in
Suddenly we're the illegitimate sons of survival
Dead or alive