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through ever nook and every cranny
echoes the fabulous laughter of jim and dannie
two crazy spirits that both now sleep
with a slogan divine, we’re all born to be cheap
through the windy city, like a scene from mad max
from the streets of chicago came the tribe of wax trax!
industrial noise, a brand new sensation
the punkification of a new generation
the music was rough, strange and abrasive
and the messages radical, direct and persuasive
yet wax trax! lived a mysterious truth
played out by it’s ministerial youth
with the darkness and light of a neon moon
with the violence and speed of a tripped-out cartoon
the supersonic and rhythms and thrill of the k!ll
the electronic patterns of a tattooist drill
like the sonic waves of a neutron bomb
the spirit of wax trax! goes on and on

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