The Style Council
The Style Council - A Gospel songtekst
Je score:
Handed down from fathers to sons Was the hatred of weakness and the love of guns A talk of peace but not in our time To save our souls and stop the crime Onwards and upwards but going nowhere So how many now truthfully swear That they do no evil - see no wrong The ad-mass agents, the writers of song The bankers, the poets, the modern day seers Clouding an issue that was never quite clear Sent through the ages of boy to man The living testament of making a stand Killing the wicked then raising the dead Eating propaganda and shit spoon fed Grasping for wisdom, but thick all the same So how many innocents now can claim That they play with fire - and get burnt And through the same mistakes never get learnt Hoping for a time it will fall to place Faith shall show as our saving grace Handed down from God with love Was the whole wide world and some above But not content to share the land Greed was shown the winning hand And those whose greed was the strongest of all Took upon themselves to lead the call That some must work while other rest Without the question of what is best The leaders, the losers and the kings Pass the rifle butt that tyranny brings Passed on over to the chosen few Was the promise of freedom with a breadline queue Ghetto's, gateaux and eating it too Forcing it all down with a cola brew The first amendment and the hunt for reds A conscious contradiction with something said That they see no evil - with eyes shut tight A cocaine culture that offers no fight Dragged from birth - drugged to death The common excuse is 'just being yourself' Hand us down before it's too late The strength and wisdom to change our state Governed by evil and all it will bring I can't wait for the day they do the lamppost swing And no mercy should they be shown For you cannot reason with the devil's own They say, they hear no evil - hands clasped tight To shut out the victims' screams of ol' Uncle Sam fights He sweats and he strains as his boney frame comes - into the womb of an innocent one