Crass - Systematic Death Lyrics
System, system, system - death in lifeSystem, system, system - the surgeons knifeSystem, system, system - hacking at the cordSystem, system, system - a child is bornPoor little *****er, poor little kidNever asked for life, no she never didPoor little baby, poor little miteCrying out for food as her parents fight (x2)System, system, system - send him to schoolSystem, system, system - force him to crawlSystem, system, system - teach him how to cheatSystem, system, system - kick him off his feetPoor little schoolboy, poor little ladThey'll pat him if he's good, beat him if he's badPoor little kiddy, poor little chapThey'll force feed his mind with their useless crapForce feed his mind with their useless crapSystem, system, system - they'll teach her how to cookSystem, system, system - they'll teach her how to lookSystem, system, system - they'll teach her all the tricksSystem, system, system - create another victim for their greasy pricksPoor little girly, poor little wenchAnother little object to prod and pinchPoor little sweety, poor little fillyThey'll ***** her mind so they can ***** her silly***** her mind so they can ***** her sillySystem, system, system - he's grown to be a manSystem, system, system - He's been taught to fit the planSystem, system, system - forty years of jobsSystem, system, system - Pushing little buttons, pulling little knobsPoor *****ing worker, poor little serfWorking like a mule for half of what he's worthPoor *****ing grafter, poor little gentWorking for the cash that he's already spent (x2)He'll selling his life, she's his loyal wifeTimid as a mouse, she's got her little houseHe's got his little car and they share the *****tail barShe likes to cook his meals, you know, something that appealsSometimes he works til late so his supper has to waitBut she doesn't really mind cos he's getting overtimeHe likes to put a bit away just for that rainy dayCos every little counts when the cost of living mountsThey do the pools each week hoping for that lucky breakThen they'd take a trip abroad, do all the things they can't affordShe'd really like to have a fur, he'd like a bigger carThey could buy a bungalow, with a Georgian door for showHe might think of leaving work, but no, he wouldn't like to shirkHe'd much prefer to stay and get his honest days payHe's got a life of work ahead, there's no rest for the deadShe's tried to make it nice, he's said thankyou once or twiceSystem, system, system - deprived of any hopeSystem, system, system - taught they couldn't copeSystem, system, system - slaves right from the startSystem, system, system - til death do them partPoor little *****ers, what a sorry pairHad their lives stolen, but they didn't really carePoor little darlings, just your ordinary folksVictims of the system and its cruel jokes (x2)The couple views the wreckage and dreams of home sweet homeThey'd almost paid their mortgage when the system dropped its bomb
