Like any force of nature, you can't be controlled

The spirit disappears before you grab a hold

Say it again, I like the sound of that

Whispers nothings, another new toy for the brat

Sweet honey, tell me where you stand

Empty promises to you from Pan

Like any force of nature, you can't be denied

How much spirit has industry supplied?

Over five hundred years since the bitch arrived

We still can't find a decent place to hide

Play the song on through a broken string

Empty promises of hope and things

Like any force of nature, you are dangerous

What mortal cannot lose its spirit thus?

Smother our mother’s generation

Whose idleness destroyed our glorious nation

Punk was not severe enough

For empty promises force fed in youth to us

This song is short, mean, and overplayed

To take it in stride, well, that’s okay

Aha, empty promises!