The True Charm of Bourgeoisie

by G.A.S. DRUMMERS

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released September 3, 2002

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G.A.S. DRUMMERS Jerez De La Frontera, Spain

G.A.S. DRUMMERS is a punk rock band from south Spain. They started in 1998 and have toured ever since throughout Europe and once in north America. the band is one of the few survivors from the 90’s in Europe that never called it quits.
Their sound gets influences from hardcore punk, 80’s American underground rock and power-pop, and their lyrics are inspired by Marxist and anarchist thinkers.
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Track Name: Zenith
Daylight blinded leaden men
Easy living lead to death
The true charm of bourgeoisie
Rounded tireless routine.
We'll never fight in the battle
We never learned,
But when struggle meant stumble
When discourse is a privilege
Lost on the way
There's always something left to say.
Power stole the narratives
From the people, "question & disobey",
Planted seeds of poetry
We cab see them bleed.
City caught me by surprise
Chained me to rhythm in line.
Played the maniac as I am tied
To an ordinary and fragmentary hectic mind.
I'm turned stone,
But I'll break my voice
I'll map my feelins, map my veins
To rearrange the strength to keep me alive
Realigned/undivided
Track Name: On Postmodernism
Beaten, just beaten,
Beyond the image there ain't no secret places.
Beaten, just beaten,
Mistaken life we live
Sailing hopelessly the seas of history
Where generations pass without their opportunity
We won't make it, let it pass away
Maybe you thought you were living
On your own now you're faking
We've been given a world we never dreamt
Seems out of reach
Voice of forgotten
Blood of workers
Cry of children
Need for revenge
Business men have bought
A raimbow to fake
The light but
We're too close to see...
Beaten? Not beaten yet.
Track Name: The Agony of Crusty Men
Take my belongings and make them burn
I just had enough.
I'll never get back to this town again.
When I'm walking down the streets
Every wall falls down on me, I'm living dead.
And I'm just a waste
I'm torn away
That's the story
Just like a king without an epoch.
When forbidden words mean forgotten names
I write a song to my generation
From the agony of crusty men
Take my belongings and make them burn
You're like a martyr's evangelist
But don't you ever pray on me,
I'll be better anywhere but here, this town,
This rotten town.
I'll be running free,
And I'll take you with me
That's the story
But if you make a sound
They'll shoot me down.
Track Name: The Paradigm for a Modern Democracy
Discredit, disbelieve
Dismantle, disobey this fake democracy
Daydream nations made of stoned and
Schemes.
Rat race-bigotry-corrupt-fascism-
Infected.
True dismembered paradigm of thief-collecting.