The atmosphere's strange out on the town
Music for pleasure, it's not music no more
Music to dance to, music to move
This is music to march to, to a wardance
A wardance
Look at the victim scrawled on the wall
You know the reason outside the door
You got something nasty in your mind
Trying to get out to a wardance
A wardance
We walk 'round the pitch, honesty is sick
Try to be honest, look, what you get
The food runs short and then the money talks
One way out, look for a nationalist command
A wardance

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