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 to preserve it./ We had the early warning, we can sit and observe it.
Sliding down guidelines, cradle to the grave,/ All the willing saviours see that we behave./ Everybody knows they're there, see them all around./ Lots of little people who'll put you in the ground. Well, take a burning issue and stuff it up your arse./ They've fucked you with a furrowed brow, shitting broken class,/ Marching down the 'dilly to demonstrate again,/ While the men who plan the holocaust are pissed out of their brain./ Brain of pasty people, who’ll bomb it all to fuck,/ You can be a victim or they'll let you try your luck,/ Pass it on to others, ship it down the line,/ Leave the world in ruins, you know we've got the time.
CHORUS
Cop-outs look for motives...Freudian analyst,/ Come on, Mr. Horror, what do you make of this?/ Won't find many people without their rationale,/ Any handy concept to hang upon the wall,/ Soldier got his enemy,/ Police have got the state,/ Family have got home sweet home,/ SS got red tape./ MP's got his duty,/ Priest has got his sin,/ Everybody finds a hole,/ To drop somebody in./Seeking out wisdom in the ironies of life,/ Weighing up subtleties, fiddling with the ties,/ No-one else decides for you, whether to or not,/ You make an easy target if you're running on the spot.
CHORUS
Someone's been training, flexing their muscles,/ Getting in practice, irrelevant tussles,/ Given a march, or a quiet Sunday demo,/ They wait till the state put the finger on you.
Peeping through a frown, your humanity in rags,/ Playing the loser till the sense of purpose sags,/ They can deal with heroes, watch the bleeders run,/It's only your head keeps the target from the gun,/ No-one else decides for you, whether to or not,/ You make an easy target, if you're running on the spot...