1. |
What God Meant To Say
03:01
|
|||
I've got the bones/of the Elephant Man/In a sack and I'm Keeping them back
They tape all our calls in Hotel rooms/they mic up the walls in hotel rooms/we grease up our balls in hotel rooms/the lines and the lies our minds we erase/the guilt and the shame jesus christ the disgrace
I'm sorry sir but you'll have to leave/you're scaring me and you're making a scene/I'm sorry sir but you'll have to leave/ain't no room in the industry
It's not home taping/It's not downloading/It's not bootlegging our filesharing/
We are the ones killing your music and we're proud of it
|
||||
2. |
Moremonkeythanmanman
02:45
|
|||
I've got Hanif Kureishi's writing room in my head/ I've got Sir Salman Rushdie hiding out under my bed/I've got nothing to lose except a yeast infection/ I've got nothing to prove except a moral direction
They said the pen was mightier than the sword/ They said the pen was mightier/
It was a fucking lie/I've got the scars to prove it/It was a fucking lie/I almost lost an eye
This is cock of the poppiest kind/Cock/ Cock/ This is cock of the poppiest kind/ I've got nothing to lose except a certain sensation/I've got nothing to prove except a pupil dilation
They said the pen was mightier than the sword/ They said the pen was mightier
It was a fucking lie/ I've got the scars to prove it/ It was a fucking lie/ I almost lost an eye
You're more monkey than man you're more
|
||||
3. |
||||
With the death of a midget/on our conscience/we found religion/in tabloid hysteria/oh the horror/the horror/the horror of
A nation Gaunt-Lite/An army of gormless screaming/bring back the gallows
One hundred thousand morons can be wrong/ One hundred thousand morons
A nation Gaunt-Lite/An army of gormless screaming bring back the gallows/ One hundred thousand is not a referendum/Bring back the gallows
|
||||
4. |
Land Of The S.O.P
03:58
|
|||
If his face is brown/It's Guantanamo/ If he wears a backpack/It's Guantanamo/Unless he has a St. George cross tattooed on his sloping forehead then you know where he belong/
It's Guantanamo.
Welcome to the land of the free/And the home of the indefinite incarcerate/ If the effete left don't know which side they're buttered it's only because we know where they belong/
It's Guantanamo
We don't need a trial/A trial is for evidence/And we don't have the time/ When everyone's a terrorist
Tell me when Lord/I've got my finger on the button
If his face is brown/If he wears a backpack/If he's running for a train/If he's read the qu'ran/ If you cannot see her face/Of indeterminate race/And some other words I wrote/If you need to rig a vote
They're all terrorists
Terror
|
||||
5. |
Fidel
02:43
|
|||
It's just so cold/it's just so cold/Oh my God can't you see you can't say that it's blasphemy/God is straight God is White God is with our military/Save yourself. Brace yourself brace yourself/I got these teeth on the national health/
Fidel
It's just so cold/it's just so cold/We'll cut your hair and sanction thee/your heathen hordes and peasantry/erase yourself/brace yourself brace yourself I got these teeth on the national health/
Fidel
Brace yourself
The C.I.A just sit at home
Home
|
||||
6. |
||||
Sirhan Sirhan/ Your mind's not your own/Sirhan Sirhan/ But whose is?/Sirhan Sirhan/The voices/Sirhan Sirhan/ They tell you good things
Sirhan Sirhan/ It's worth a shot/ Sirhan Sirhan/ To the temple/ Sirhan Sirhan/ Of a celebrity/ Sirhan Sirhan/ Oh no it's happening again
Oh no it's happening again/The bad thing
The good thing/the good thing/the good thing/ the good thing/ Oh no it's bad thing
And now it's happening again/ The bad thing
Bobby K
|
||||
7. |
Like A Normal Person
07:05
|
|||
It's in pieces at my feet and I can't quite recollect how it came to be that way but if had to hazard a guess I'd say it was bigger boys what done it and they ran away/Or maybe it was one of those black fellas, you know I saw two or three of those black fellas hanging around before the event looking mighty shifty/ Four or five of those black fellas, like one of those street gangs you read about in the newspapers, I remember clearly now/ There were ten of them, ten of these great big black fellas and they was all armed to their shiny teeth
Okay I can confess it was four white guys, four funny looking white guys, two of them with identical features crammed on to their tiny faces/ And they was all dressed the same, in some kind of uniform, a cut price army all desperately trying to be something they're not and they was drinking something unfamiliar
They say I'm an unreliable witness/ and I reply
I've got diseases of the mind
|
Fashoda Crisis London, UK
At all times Fashoda Crisis play from the bottom of their twisted, blackened tumourous little hearts. They spew forth vitriol and acerbic wit in equal measures, melding political rhetoric and social commentary with opaquely personal lyrics. Intelligent, violent, passionate, honest, spleen-rupturingly humourous (and modest, let’s not forget modest) genre mangling mentalists. ... more
Streaming and Download help
Fashoda Crisis recommends:
If you like Fashoda Crisis, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp