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!