Lyrics

Dear Mr. DJ, can you play my song?
It's rather catchy, only three minutes long
Hey Mr. DJ, can't you give me a break?
A bit of (f)airplay that is all that it takes

But he said:

Even if I dig it , if I think it's real good
There's nothing that I can do
I got mouths to feed, gotta make ends meet
I better not mess with the Radio Police
Naa naa na na na naaa
Naa naa na na na naaa

Dear Mr. DJ, tell me how does it feel
To live the puppet-life where nothing is real
Inside your mansion and your big shiny car
You're just a slave who's told to kill the real stars

But he said:

It's not about music, it's not about art
Screw everything coming from the heart
I gotta kill their goals and corrupt their souls
So I better not fuck with the Radio Police
Naa naa na na na naaa
Naa naa na na na naaa

You serve the serpent not the human race
Don't you remember who you were
You had such passion in your younger days
What happened to the boy who's lost his only toy

Downwards we go – shut off from the universe
We're all sheople what do we know (4x)