Armchair Anarchist

Well you sit in your room and you call me a straight
Your vile little words full of poison and hate
You don’t even know me but still you insist
That you have me sussed there’s a point you have missed

Too late you realise the things that you said
Were all just junk piling up in your head
Thousands of them and just one of you
You rot from the inside your words are not true
CHORUS
Cos you’re the Armchair Anarchist
Here’s to the point that you really missed
Stick your opinion, damned if we’re done
We never cared it was only for fun
Just fun!
FUCK OFF!