I hate parades
I hate drums and bugles
And I won't salute a flag
Or gasbag politicians
Stealing honour from the dead
They're screwing with my head
I hate parades
I hate parades

I hate to say
That we're bringing up our children
On MTV and Raves
And not all that much schooling
Yet their factory jobs await
They'll make stuff we'll throw away
I hate to say
I hate to say

I hate the taste
Of corporate boot leather
As I grovel for my pay
But these times are desperate
And it's the price we have to pay
Throw our dignity away
I hate the taste
I hate the taste

I hate the face
That looks back from the mirror
A map of my mistakes
With landmarks like bomb craters
And the panic in those eyes
Does not subside with time
I hate that face
I hate the face

I hate parades
I hate drums and bugles
And I won't salute a flag
Or gasbag politicians
Stealing glory from the dead
They're screwing with my head
I hate parades
I hate parades