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NAPALM DEATH LYRICS
"Mass Appeal Madness" (1991 EP)
1. Mass Appeal Madness
2. Pride Assassin
3. Unchallenged Hate
4. Social Sterility
1. Mass Appeal Madness
Tell me, assure me, I really can't believe your dishonesty.
Dissention, seeking attention, yet segregation from the ones' that
really cared.
Tell me, assure me, I really can't believe your dishonesty.
Cash styled deadhead, no conscience or opinions.
Material gain bar happiness means shit.
It means shit.
Mass appeal madness eats your brain. False influence like a leach.
Sucking dry your veins.
Public eyes see fit your second face.
Freakshow - fooling those who imitate.
Clever marketing to dominate. Screwing those who gave you your big
break.
And when the bubble bursts, exposing your selfish crap.
You'll cry for sympathy, we'll just sit back and laugh.
2. Pride Assassin
Brought forth into an acceptance.
Expected mass production.
All cloned to obey without fail.
To question means breaking the mold.
To turn your back, that courage you lack...
Or live in pretense.
In youth, confused.
Prime for manipulation.
An open sore cursed with their social infections.
"Absorb to be seen as a failure"
"Not fit to breath the air we take in"
Pride Assassin.
True feelings call for deviation.
But could you face mass condemnation.
Pride Assassin.
Backed into a corner.
Why should you adhere to their illusions?
And their orders?
Willing to dictate yet for themselves exemption.
Evaluate your brain, form your own opinions.
To be an individual - compassionate and free.
3. Unchallenged Hate
A chronic complaint of dimness.
Prevails your profound ideology.
A romantic vision of a master race.
Attained through coercive forms of authority.
Your observance is negligence.
If you see the threat from difficult cultures.
We're all in this sinking ship.
Each of us together.
Where does the whiteman stand?
Where does the blackman stand?
Where do we all fucking stand/
Knee deep in the shit!
Lock into yourself and you'll find the real oppressor.
To a life of unchallenged hate.
It's yourself who's the "nigger"
4. Social Sterility
Time for my omittance, from a sterile existence.
Where the weekend pays homage to stereotypical perpetuation.
Must inebriate my senses into a state of delirium.
Before I turn to the meatrack from my penile selection.
Apathy spreads in unison with sexual 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 re - assess my course of action.
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