Text:
Crass The Feeding Of The 5000

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. General Bacardi. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. General Bacardi.
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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

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. End Result. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Rezultatul final.
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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

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. Women. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Femei.
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Fuck is womens money We pay with our bodies There is no purity in our love, no beauty Just bribery, it's all the fucking same We make soldiers with our

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. You Pay. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Veţi plăti.
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You're paying for prisons, you're paying for war Paying for lobotomies, you're paying for law Paying for their order, paying for their murder Paying for

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. Sucks. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Sucks.
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Do you really believe in Buddha? Buddha sucks Do you really believe in Jesus? Jesus fucks Chorus: Is it alright really? It is alright really?

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. Angels. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Angels.
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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

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. What A Shame. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Să vă fie ruşine.
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Doesn't take much to bring you down There are plenty of people standing round Wait till you slacken off just a bit Then they fill you up with passive

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. Asylum. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Azil.
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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

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. Banned From The Roxy. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Interzis de la Roxy.
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toys? Fuck 'em, I chosen to make my stand, Against what I feel is wrong with this land. They just sit there on their overfed arses, Feeding off the sweat

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. Do They Owe Us A Living? (Well?...do They?). Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Ei nu ne datorezi o viaţă? (Ei bine? ... Ei fac?).
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One - Two - Three - Four Fuck the politically minded, here's something I want to say, About the state of nation, the way it treats us today. At school

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. End Result. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Rezultatul final.
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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

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. Angels. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Angels.
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The angels are on T.V. tonight, grey puke, celluloid shit. The army have sent a mission to Ireland, just to see to it. Kojac is on the streets again,

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. G's Song. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. G Song.
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This country tells us that we're down and out, Got you thinking that we're through. Got to suffer to get us moving, Say it's up to me and you. Well,

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. Fight War, Not Wars. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Război Lupta Nu, Wars.
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Fight war, not wars. Fight war, not wars. Fight war, not wars. Fight war, not wars. Fight war, not wars. Fight war, not wars. Fight war, not wars. FIGHT

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. General Bacardi. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. General Bacardi.
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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

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. Punk Is Dead. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Punk Is Dead.
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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

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. Securicor. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Securicor.
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I'm a private in a private army, I'm a private in a private army, I'm a private in a private army, I'm a private in a private army, I'm a private in

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Crass. The Feeding Of The 5000. Reject Of Society. Cras. Hrănirea 5000. Respingere a societăţii.
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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

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