Testo Don't Tell Me You Care - Crass
Testo della canzone Don't Tell Me You Care (Crass), tratta dall'album Best Before 1984
You shithead slime, you've got it all
You crack-eyed, dose-hitting, greasy balls
You wicked matrix stabbing hard
Rabid while the gold sleeps
A mini strain of vicious smile
Dancing on the body parts
Licking your sly fingernails
Hanging the flesh on battlefields
Decaying corpses help you up
To your position on the top
You shithead slime, you've got it all
You vibe your baby as it crawls
The plastic sex, the sulky style
And the plastic strain of keeping down
You only smile, you mad man, see the
Grinding down with bloody teeth
Eat it up with national pride
Proving to yourself that we fight
Not for themselves but you
You scab
The razor for ears on the dead
You shithead slime, you make it all
Dead meat dripping as you walk
The trauma shock you call
Is making the shit of how to crawl
And this is what frightens yours
And our lives
And your survival still unbind
It's your security that makes need
For your demolition that makes us
We stack your red heroes
With no more thought
And sell the cartons at the world
You shithead slime, you've got it all
Rat-eyed, dose-laid, maggots sprawl
Harvester of bodyguards
A muscle pit controlled
You vibe your massless thought
And massive butchered bullets
And endowment hawks
As your heartless failure
Lays protected, not ashamed
Of your neglect
All in the great field
Your noodles and stench
And god and death
The fear of death
You shitheads
Greedy, have it all
And lie and jargonise
That your success is also ours
That what you take, you take for us
But your ambition
Grates the living dry
And your solutions are a pain in the back of one
You dead meat eye-sore death pushers
You can't square for your arse
And listen
The face that stares back from the mirror
Reflects the reality of your horror
So don't tell me you care, shithead
You betray the dead now as you curse life
Eat your own shit, leader of this nation
Piss off in your diamond suit fortress
Leave us out of your madness
Buy your own Vaseline
Weep your own aftershave
Shit in your own backyards
Suck your own turds
This is our world
When you wrote this morning
You looked so rocky-eyed
You were white, but all your strokes
In light and black
You don't care much for how you look
It doesn't, no shade in both
And maybe some of these
Which you say we still throw tonight
Come back six months
Won't understand a silence
Scream like jackass
To be near to you
It's only a silence
Evil is there
Like the weak sleep in the window
See it but not be touched by it
Credits
Writer(s): Penny Rimbaud, Jones, Gee Vaucher, Steve Ignorant, Peter Coomber, Philip Andrew Clancey, Andrew John Palmer, Joy Muriel Elizabeth Haney
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