Chorus: Seen it all before, revolution at my back door

Who's to say it won't happen all again

Cos the Generals sip bacardi, while the privates feel the pain



They talk from the screen and T.V. tube

Talk revolution like it's processed food

Talk anarchy from music hall stages

Look for change in colour supplement pages

They think that by talking from some distant tower

They something might change in the structure of power

They dream, they dream, never walk on the street

They dream, they dream, never stand on their feet



Chorus



Alternative values were a fucking con

They never really meant it when they said "Get It on"

They really meant "Mine, that's mine" don't you see?

They stamped on our head so that they could be free

They formed little groups, like rich mens ghettoes

Tending their goats and organic tomatoes

While the world was fucked by fascist regimes

Talked of windmills and psychedelic dreams



Chorus