Conflict Berkshire Cunt Letras:
Filled with love and compassion. As she fixes her
make-up for a day of fun He reads the news, it
depresses her. With reports of death by bomb and
gun Astride their horses in the winter lanes. They
smile at nature with tenderness They hear the
call, hold hands with pride. And look down at the
bloody mess

And civilized upright citizens grin, as the dog's
teeth tear at shrieking skin This ain't savagery;
it's jolly old culture. As they stand and wait for
death like vultures She laughs as the bloody fur's
flying. Re-applies her lipstick as the animals
crying He claims the tail as privileged prize. And
kicks the mangled corpse aside

The time has come when we all must turn around and
start to think No more standing in the corner.
Question the missing link The link that created
the misery and pain. That sees the mistakes, but
then makes them again You've heard it once; you'll
hear it again. Your blood, their blood serves the
same

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There they stand and there they grin. Never
thinking or questioning "Why blood of
innocents must be spilt". They smile but they
can't hide their guilt That their life is built
upon a pile of bodies. Slaughtered animals?
Slaughtered squaddies? The pleasure they take from
another's death. Hides the truth that murder feeds
their wealth

She smiles at him as dead eyes stare. He takes her
hand and strokes her hair His fingertips soaked in
misery are the mark of aristocracy And the broken
form lying in the ditch. The handiwork of the dog
and bitch Bears the label of decency. The honour
given so graciously

And backs are slapped in celebration. The success
of extermination Freedom maintained so humanely.
As they wipe their hands of blame so bravely Back
at home she wears the fur that proves his precious
love for her Death and glory on her shoulders sit.
As the master takes what's rightfully his

Murder is committed in the guise of sport. Ripping
flesh is given no thought Glasses are raised in
dedication. The crime is given a justification
Heart beats faster, eyes wide and staring. Death
comes whistling cold, uncaring Slaughtered
animals, slaughtered squaddies. Their wealth is
built from murdered bodies
Letras: Berkshire Cunt Conflict [final]