I feel a sense of disbelief when I read the lies of Media Street.
What to do and when to hate. Come on, lads; let’s fight a war.
But what are we going for? There not the enemy.
Its closer to the land I feel. In the seasons of discontent
that lead in to the slaughter of the innocent.

I don’t wanna fight the soviet, I don’t believe he is a threat.
I don’t wanna fight the soviet, I don’t believe he is a threat.
I don’t wanna fight the soviet, I don’t believe he is a threat.

He’s never stopped me in the street, never asked me what I think or feel.
They’re not the enemy. It’s closer to the land I feel and in the seasons of discontent
that lead in to the slaughter of the innocent.

I don’t wanna fight the soviet, I don’t believe he is a threat.
I don’t wanna fight the soviet, I don’t believe he is a threat.
I don’t believe it. I don’t believe he is a threat.
I don’t believe it. I don’t believe he is a threat