systematic death

Discussion in 'Soap Box' started by pit, Mar 28, 2008.

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  1. pit

    pit Well-Known Member

    Lyrics from Crass

    System, system, system Death in life
    System, system, system The surgeons knife
    System, system, system Hacking at the cord
    System, system, system A child is born

    Poor little fucker, poor little kid
    Never asked for life, no she never did
    Poor little baby, poor little mite
    Crying out for food as her parents fight


    System, system, system Send him to school
    System, system, system Force him to crawl
    System, system, system Teach him how to cheat
    System, system, system Kick him off his feet

    Poor little schoolboy, poor little lad
    They'll pat him if he's good and they'll beat him if he's bad
    Poor little kiddy, poor little chap
    They'll force feed his mind with their useless crap

    System, system, system They'll teach her how to cook
    System, system, system Teach her how to look
    System, system, system They'll teach her all the tricks
    System, system, system Create another victim for their greasy pricks

    Poor little girly, poor little wench
    Another little object to prod and pinch
    Poor little sweety, poor little filly
    They'll fuck her mind so they can fuck her silly

    System, system, system He's grown to be a man
    System, system, system Taught to fit the plan
    System, system, system Forty years of jobs
    System, system, system Pushing little buttons, pulling little knobs

    Poor fucking worker, poor little serf
    Working like a mule for half of what he's worth
    Poor fucking grafter, poor little gent
    Working for the cash that he's already spent

    He's selling his life She's his loyal wife
    Timid as a mouse She's got her little house
    He's got his little car And they share the cocktail bar
    She likes to cook his meals You know, something that appeals

    Sometimes he works til late So his supper has to wait
    But she doesn't really mind Cos he's getting overtime
    He likes to put a bit away Just for that rainy day
    Cos every little counts As the cost of living mounts
    They do the pools each week Hoping for that lucky break
    Then they'd take a trip abroad Do all the things they can't afford

    She'd really like to have a fur He'd like a bigger car
    They could buy a bungalow With a Georgian door for show
    He might think of leaving work But no, he wouldn't like a shirk

    He'd much prefer to stay And get his honest days pay
    He's got a life of work ahead There's no rest for the dead
    She's tried to make it nice He's said thankyou once or twice

    System, system, system Deprived of any hope
    System, system, system Taught they couldn't cope
    System, system, system Slaves right from the start
    System, system, system Til death do them part.

    Poor little fuckers, what a sorry pair
    Had their lives stolen, but they didn't really care
    Poor little darlings, just your ordinary folks
    Victims of the system and it's cruel jokes

    The couple views the wreckage And dreams of home sweet home
    They'd almost paid the mortgage Then the system dropped its bomb

    l
     
  2. Ire

    Ire Guest

    Awesome lyrics.

    Just wish it wasn't so damned valid.
     
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