This begins as a Orwellian sing-along and expands into an attack on negative liberty--and, by extension, Western society, which conflates negative liberty with freedom simpliciter. According to the Mekons, the whole fucking world--sex, art, labor, etc.--has been corrupted by this confusion. Even your uncoerced choices are limited by your own self, a self shaped by forces beyond your control. Self-government, i.e. rationally determining the rules by which you act, is impossible in such conditions--and yet that's the essence of freedom. So you're not free; nor will the music, an oppressive drone with no space between the instruments, allow you to imagine you are. There's a brief, grinding guitar riff played over and over, and a clatter of drums comes in at the end of the riff to start the next cycle. It's the sound of an awesome machine, mass producing our thoughts and desires, precluding free action. You can't resist. So give yourself over to it and let the sound close in on you.