Waiting for Dub

I hate music what is it worth

Can't bring anyone back to this earth

Or fill in the space between all of the notes

But I got nothing else so I guess here we go

Crammed into the back of a van oh yeah

All of our friends with no plan oh yeah

Some wild jockey up in the front seat

Put in a tape put up your feet on the dash

We've got a Stereo Freeze

We've got a sweet Summer Breeze

Half an hour in the Record Exchange

We were always together we were never the same

Me and you and Jackie Mittoo

I hate music what is it worth

It can't bring you back to this earth