Crass Lyrics
The Feeding of The 5,000
1. Asylum |2. Do They Owe Us A Living? |3. End Result |4. They've Got A Bomb |5.Punk Is Dead |6. Reject of Society |7. General Bacardi
Asylum - The Feeding of The 5,000
I am no feeble Christ not me. He hangs in glib delight upon his cross, above my body. Christ forgive. FORGIVE? I vomit for you Jesu. Shit forgive. Down now from your cross. Down now from your papal heights, from that churlish suicide, petulant child. Down from those pious heights, royal flag bearer, goat, billy. I vomit for you. Forgive? Shit he forgives. He hangs in crucified delight nailed to the extend of his vision, his cross, his manhood, violence, guilt, sin. He would nail my body upon his cross, suicide visionary, death reveller, rake, rapist, lifefucker, Jesu, earthmover, Christus, gravedigger, you dug the pits of Auschwitz, the soil of Treblinka is your guilt, your sin, master, master of gore, enigma. You carry the standard of your oppression. Enola is your gaiety. The bodies of Hiroshima are your delight the nails are your only trinity, hold them in your corpsey gracelessness, the image I have had to suffer. The cross is the virgin body of womenhood that you defile. You nail yourself to your own sin. Lamearse Jesus calls me sister there are no words for my contempt, every woman is a cross in is filthy theology, in his arrogant delight. He turns his back upon me in his fear, he dare not face me. Fearfucker. Share nothing you Christ, sterile, impotent, fucklove prophet of death. You are the ultimate pornography, in your cuntfear, cockfear, manfear, womanfear, unfair, warfare, warfare, warfare, warfare, warfare, warfare, warfare, warfare.
JESUS DIED FOR IS OWN SINS, NOT MINE.
Do They Owe Us A Living? - The Feeding of The 5,000
Fuck the politically minded,
here's somethin I want to say,
about the state of the nation,
the way it treats us today. At school they give you shit, drop you in the pit, you try and try to get out, but you can't because they've fucked you about. Then you're a prime example, of how they must not be, this is just a sample of what they've done to you and me.
Do they owe us a living?
Of course they do, course they do
Do they owe us a living?
Of course they do, course they do
Do they owe us a living?
OF COURSE THEY FUCKING DO!
They don't want me anymore, 'cos I threw it on the floor. They used to call me sweet thing but I'm nobody plaything, and now that I am different, they'd love to bust my head, they'd love to see me cop out, theyd love to see me dead.
Do they owe us a living?
Of course they do, course they do
Do they owe us a living?
Of course they do, course they do
Do they owe us a living?
OF COURSE THEY FUCKING DO!
The living that is owed to me I'm never going to get, they've buggered this old wrold up, up to their necks in debt.They'd give you a lobotomy for something you aint done, they'll make you an epitomy of everything tha's wrong
Do they owe us a living?
Of course they do, course they do
Do they owe us a living?
Of course they do, course they do
Do they owe us a living?
OF COURSE THEY FUCKING DO!
Don't take any notice of what the public think, they're so hyped up with t.v., they just don't want to think. They'll use you as a target for demands and foradvice, when you don't want to hear it they'll say yur full of vice.
Do they owe us a living?
Of course they do, course they do
Do they owe us a living?
Of course they do, course they do
Do they owe us a living?
OF COURSE THEY FUCKING DO!
End Result - The Feeding of The 5,000
I am a product.
I am a symbol of endless, hopeless, fruitless, aimless games.
I'm a glossy packages on the supermarket shelf.
My contents aren't fit for human consumption.
I could tragically injure your perfect health.
My ingredients will seize up your body function.
I'm the dirt that everyone walks on.
I am the orphan nobody wants.
I am the staircarpet everyone walks on.
I am the leper nobody wants to touch.......... much.
I am a sample.
I am a scapegoat of useless, futureless, endless, mindless ideas.
I'm a number on the paper you file away.
I'm a portfolio you stick in the drawer.
I'm the fool you try to scare when you say
"We know all about you, of that you can be sure".
Well, I don't want your crazy system,
I don't want to be on your files.
Your temptations I try to resist them
Cos I know what hides beneath your smiles, it's.......... EST.
I am a topic.
I am subject a for useless, futureless, endless, mindless debates.
You think up ways that you can hide
From the naieve eyes of your figurehead,
But don't you find that it ain't easy?
Wouldn't you love to see me dead?
Your answer is to give me treatment
For crying out when you give me pain,
Leave me with no possible remnant,
You poke your knives into my brain, you send me.......... insane.
I am an example.
I'm no hero of the great, intelligent, magnificent human race.
I'm part of the race that kills for possesions
Part of the race that's wiping itself out.
I'm part of the race that's got crazy obsessions
Like locking people up, not letting them out.
I hate the living dead and their work in factories.
They go like sheep to their production lines.
They live on illusions, don't face the realities,
All they live for is that big blue sign, it says, it says..........
I'M BORED, BORED, BORED, BORED.
They've Got A Bomb - The Feeding of The 5,000
They won't destroy the world, no, they're not that crazy. You're not dealing with the town hall. They're not crazy. No political solution so why should we bother? Well whe fucking head do you think they're holding it over?
Four. Three. Two. One. FIRE
They can't wait to use it.
They can't wait to use it.
They can't wait to try it out.
They can't wait to use it.
They'vr got a bomb, They've got a bomb, they can't wait to use it on me.
Twenty odd years now waiting for the flash, all of the oddballs thinking we'll be ash. Well te four minute warning has run on into years, are we waiting for them to conrim our fears?
Four. Three. Two. One. FIRE
They can't wait to use it.
They can't wait to use it.
They can't wait to try it out.
They can't wait to use it.
They'vr got a bomb, They've got a bomb, they can't wait to use it on me.
Punk Is Dead - The Feeding of The 5,000
Yes that's right, punk is dead,
It's just another cheap product for the consumers head.
Bubblegum rock on plastic transistors,
Schoolboy sedition backed by big time promoters.
CBS promote the Clash,
But it ain't for revolution, it's just for cash.
Punk became a fashion just like hippy used to be
And it ain't got a thing to do with you or me.
Movements are systems and systems kill.
Movements are expressions of the public will.
Punk became a movement cos we all felt lost,
But the leaders sold out and now we all pay the cost.
Punk narcissism was social napalm,
Steve Jones started doing real harm.
Preaching revolution, anarchy and change
As he sucked from the system that had given him his name.
Well I'm tired of staring through shit stained glass,
Tired of staring up a superstars arse,
I've got an arse and crap and a name,
I'm just waiting for my fifteen minutes fame.
Steve Jones you're napalm,
If you're so pretty (vacant) why do you swarm?
Patti Smith you're napalm,
You write with your hand but it's Rimbaud's arm.
And me, yes I, do I want to burn?
Is there something I can learn?
Do I need a business man to promote my angle?
Can I resist the carrots that fame and fortune dangle?
I see the velvet zippies in their bondage gear,
The social elite with safety-pins in their ear,
I watch and understand that it don't mean a thing,
The scorpions might attack, but the systems stole the sting.
PUNK IS DEAD. PUNK IS DEAD. PUNK IS DEAD
PUNK IS DEAD. PUNK IS DEAD. PUNK IS DEAD
PUNK IS DEAD. PUNK IS DEAD. PUNK IS DEAD
Reject of Society - The Feeding of The 5,000
Not for me the factory floor,
Sweeping up from nine to four.
Not for me the silly rat race,
I don't see the point in anycase.
People ask me why I say what I do,
I say to them, "Well wouldn't you?"
If you were fucked up just like me,
A reject of society.
They say I dig a hole and jump right in,
Well I don't give a shit about anything,
I don't comply to their silly rules,
All they are is hypocritical fools.
You give us conscience money,
Now you start to worry.
The Frankenstein monster you created
Has turn against you now you're hated.
They tell me I'm not what they'd like me to be,
It's their fault, you can't blame me.
They fucking tricked me half the time
Now they've got to stand in line.
They don't like it when they see me have fun,
They turn around and then they run.
They don't listen to what I say,
I'm a reject of society.
You give us conscience money,
Now you start to worry.
The Frankenstein monster you created
Has turn against you now you're hated.
You give us conscience money,
Now you start to worry.
The Frankenstein monster you created
Has turn against you now you're hated.
You give us conscience money,
Now you start to worry.
The Frankenstein monster you created
Has turn against you now you're hated.
General Bacardi - The Feeding of The 5,000
I've seen it all before,
Revolution at my back door,
Well whose to say it won't happen all again.
Cos the General's sip bacardi, while the privates feel the pain.
They talk from the screen and T.V. tube.
They talk revolution like it's processed food.
They talk of anarchy from music hall stages,
Look for change in colour supplement pages.
They think that by talking from some distant tower,
That something might change in the structure of power.
They dream, they dream, never walk on the street.
They dream, they dream, never stand on their feet.
I've seen it all before,
Revolution at my back door,
Well whose to say it won't happen all again.
Cause the General's sip bacardi, while the privates feel the pain.
Alternative values were a fucking con.
They never really meant it when they said "Get it on".
They really meant, "Mine, that's mine", can't you see?
They stamped on our heads so that they could be free.
They formed little groups, like rich mans ghettoes,
Tending their goats and organic tomatoes.
While the world was being fucked by fascist regimes,
They talked of windmills and psychedelic dreams.
I've seen it all before,
Revolution at my back door,
Well whose to say it won't happen all again.
Cause the General's sip bacardi, while the privates feel the pain.
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© Punk Rock Lyrics 2003
