1990's CD Reissue
LYRICS:
They won't fucking listen. We know our enemy
they're hiding underground. They want us to live
and die in the shit they leave around
What can we do? What can we say?
We're not dead yet; to show we're alive?
The government says'shove it'and
'don't get in the way'. But we're sliding
down corpses on a world nose-dive
People here cling tightly to their fear
and their fun, the dead are abroad, so our streets
are clean, even those who know, hide in Sounds
and Sun. What will it take to stop the machine?
It's only when we're serious and start to make
a fuss that the smug politicians show their
real face. It's the copper and the squaddy
who were once one of us, now trained to do the
dirty work and know their place
If they won't listen either, what can we do?
They're people. yes. but only people oppress
If we can't go round them, we'll have to go
through. If it rains and there's no shelter
we must work in the mess. They say they're only
trying to uphold the law and if they were off duty
we could talk some more. OK, they're individuals
but when they're in a mob, they're under orders
it's a dirty job. The plods are taught to go
for your neck or bust your nose running their
gauntlet. P.C. Punishment on the spot, take the
law into their own hands and fuck us lot
If we choose to leave the paths that we've been
taught, don't expect help, so don't get caught
They try so very hard to seem reasonable and
straight and asked you twice to co-operate
'You have every right to protest like anyone these
days, but keep to the footpath and out the fucking
way, see? The commie-anar-fems are at it again
annoying the police and the passive 'grass roots'
We're living in a country where the army shoots
People with courage dumped and stranded
Don'ts and won'ts look on empty-handed
If you fuck up the state, don't be a star, they're
stuck if they don't know who you are
If we choose to leave..........................
To stand up for the good of all and make demands
for peace will bring us hard and sharp against the
army and police. Well, they're the poor too, just
like us, maybe it's too late. The rich are in their
bunker, the poor are at the gate. Use our head to
avoid confrontation, our love to avoid exploitation
If the uniforms choose to stay, they'll have to
learn to get out the fucking way. If we choose to
leave the paths that we've been taught, we cease to
be the seeker, we become the sought.