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WHITE PUNKS ON HOPE Crass they said that we were trash well the name is crass not clash they can stuff their punk credentials cause it's them that take the cash they won't change nothing with their fashionable talk their rar WHAT A SHAME Crass good. it can't last. what a shame watch out for the quiet ones at the back all they want is the smallest crack everythings happening down the front innocent bystander you're the biggest runt fuck the punks BEG YOUR PARDON Crass now we're lost in the darkness, searching sound and sight of an answer to the what, where or how we're talking 'bout freedom while we're locked in a cell dreaming of a world without war forced to live on NINETEEN EIGHTY BORE Crass switch on the set, light up the screen fantasise and dream about what you might have been who needs controlling when they've got the cathode ray they've got your fucking soul, now they'll fuse your brains White Punks On Dope Motley Crue (White punks on dope) White punks on dope (White punks on dope) Other dudes are living in the ghetto But born in Pacific Heights don't seem much betto We're white punks on dope Mom & Dad live MAJOR GENERAL DESPAIR Crass just hatred, poverty, aggression, misery so much money spent on war when three quarters of the world is so helplessly poor major general despair sits at his desk, planning a new mode of attack he's quite FUN GOING ON Crass maybe you think it's the new new wave well all it is is just another rave maybe it looks like the writing's on the wall but you've seen it before, it's another death pall so somebody's coming with the White Punks On Dope The Tubes White Punks On Dope (Evans/Spooner/Steen) Copyright 1975 Pseudo Songs and Swiveltone Music Teenage had a race for the night time Spent my cash on every high I could find Wasted time in every ANGELS Crass the angels are on t.v. tonight grey puke, celluloid shit the army have sent a mission to ireland just to see to it kojack is on the streets again grey puke, fucking shit the army say the seek peace in WHAT THE FUCK? Crass No flowers in your landscape, some withered rose Kicked amongst the corpses where they lay Halted where all hope died, froze By the horror of your acts compelled to stay Unnoticed all this in your lusting GENERAL BACARDI Crass music hall stages look for change in colour supplement pages they think that by talking from some distant tower they something might change in the structure of power they dream, they dream, never walk on BUMHOOLER Crass chorus: if they drop a bomb on us, we fucking deserve it we know we got it coming, we fucking deserve it they got a comfy set up, they'll try and preserve it we had the early warning, we can sit and END RESULT Crass i am product, i am a symbol of endless, hopeless, fruitless, aimless games i'm a glossy package on the supermarket shelf my contents aren't fit for human consumption i could tragically injure your perfect DRY WEATHER Crass you ride on me suck my energy you take what you want when you want it you reject any change that i make you ask me for more when i've spent it when i've given it all, you still take is there anyone prepared REALITY WHITEWASH Crass the best she can doesn't do it for herself, she does it for her man and meanwhile he's out hunting, this master of the hunt cruising down the high street in his endless search for cunt and the posters on BANNED FROM THE ROXY Crass fuck 'em, chosen to make my stand against what i feel is wrong with this land just sit there on their overfed arses feeding off the sweat of less fortunate classes keep their fucking power cos their finger's SYSTEMATIC DEATH Crass 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 RIVAL TRIBAL REBEL REVELS (PART 2) Crass never do no harm ain't my fault i like cracking bones, gives me a funny kind of thrill i can't help smiling at the pathetic moans, when i go in for the kill tribal wars are raging, it's a battlefield on SYSTEM Crass you can swear by who the fuck you like but you're still on the roof i'm not gonna change the system they're not gonna change the system we're not gonna change the system where does that leave you? POISON IN A PRETTY PILL Crass your tactile eyes running over glossy paper printed on with tactile lies of glaze and gauze they say "forget yourself, adorn with this disguise" this womanhood of smooth and tampered whores let me warn HEARD TOO MUCH ABOUT Crass and office aware there's something missing, but living with their losses there's no fight to get where they'd rather be only the accepting of dependency wait in the shop, for what you ain't got lying on MOTHER-EARTH Crass it's myra hindley on the cover your very own sweet anti-mother there she is, on the pages of the star ain't that just the place you wish you were? SO WHAT Crass they ask me why i'm hateful, why i'm bad they tell me i got things they never had they tell me go to church and see the light cos the good lord's always right so what, so what so what if jesus died on DEADHEAD Crass tired bored sad people, tired bored sad lives endless cars on endless roadways endless shopfronts with endless lies even the winners, even the punters, tight lipped packages, think it's bad can't imagine WOMEN Crass war is mens money, they pay with their bodies there is no purity in that game only blood, death and bribery it's all the fucking same but we've got the power don't just stand there and take submission on YOU CAN BE WHO? Crass abusing each other as your work off your fears go climb a mountain, go fuck a scout avoidance of self is what it's about pretence and illusion to avoid who you are don't work on yourself, just polish the TIRED Crass i don't want it, you can take it back i don't want to face another attack shits all running round looking for a crack wannanother corpse to put on the stack? what do you want? what do you want? DO THEY OWE US A LIVING? Crass they don't want me anymore threw it on the floor used to call me sweet thing i'm nobody's plaything now that i am different you'd love to bust my head you'd love to see me cop-out love to see me dead chorus HURRY UP GARRY (the parsons farted) Crass "can you put me on the guestlist? is there any freebie drink? i can't write unless i feel well pissed" piss off, you fucking stink. PUNK IS DEAD Crass 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 ain't