It's Friday night and the street's filled with freaks, come watch as the useless flock to the beat Of the techno noise that enhances their high, a bombs gonna blow and I think you know why!
Chorus: Everybody's running out, bodies hit the ground, you'd better take cover It's a pipebomb on lansdowne street
There's no room for dancing on your precious floors, cause you've got to save space for the jocks and whores You say that our shows are for violent thugs, but we're not the ones on designer drugs
It's not a bunch of little kids we're out to harm and maim, so maim So make sure the night you hurl the pipe there's no baseball game Look for flyers, check the phoenix, are there any decent shows, if Keith Bennett isn't working Then the bomb is good to go.
(The problem with the world today is that nobody can take a joke anymore)