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