Rogue transmission, intercepted from the front

Anarchy International, Anarchy International, 
Elder Division, 
this is rogue unit Lightcycle...repeat, 
this is rebel cycle 666teen 
riding the electric tentacles of 
this pop3 email account 
reporting from the front lines 

First wave attack against enemy fortifications was repelled, 
first wave attack was repelled. 

We've taken some heavy losses in the cheesy synths brigade, 
and our drugged-out sampling division 
has been completely wiped out 
due to a sneak attack by lawyers backed by 
the satano-DEA-right-winger-wing of 
the military-industrial-entertainment complex. 

We're regrouping our forces. 
We're stocking up on heavier synthesizers 
and faster drum machines. 

We're layering our beats like never before, 
and we're trying to recruit a Vocoder battalion. 

Our battle has been hard fought, 
and the sound of your words have echoed 
through the night as the cannons still roared... 

"those brainless cows... 
the candyman always had some new kind of acid... 
out of which Plato is born every time... 
whose worlds are these?" 

We sent faxes to god and 
asked for platonic lovers, 
but be careful what you fax for, 
you may just get it 
in the form of LESBIAN FEMINAZIS'
who shun Shakespeare for his manhood, 
who castrate his words 
because of their latent fear of penetration 
by his hard throbbing ideas. 

Well, I happen to like his throbbing ideas, 
for they fit tightly in certain spots of my brain 
and from there they do battle and 
spasm into the future of 
electro breaks drum'n'bass 
by which I will do battle 
with the evil that is Brittany Spears 
and the Boy Toy Wonder Band Brigade. 

So now my army sits 
poised behind sequencers and samplers, 
awaiting the call to battle whereby 
we will sodomize the ears of the masses 
through untamed beats of apocalyptic squander... 
and no, we will not use Vaseline, 
nor KY, nor baby oil; 
because the rectum of modern music 
must be fucked dry and hard 
by the likes of punk rock and 
punk techno and 
punk metal and 
punk country 
and punk new age 
and punk phunk 
and all the other struggling artists 
and bands 
and hipsters 
out there who are trying to stick it to the man
in the can
using grease 
from the frying pan 
as a lubricant. 

These are my words 
and these words are the words of my beats 
and the beats of my brethren 
and the brethren of my thoughts 
and my thoughts are these words 
and with these words I will rape all minds for all time. 

By the dawn's early light, our synthesizers were still there... 
oh say can you see that star-spangled sampler, 
that baseline will still wave, 
by the rockets red vocoders, 
we will hold true through the night… 

Lightcycle out... 

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