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conflict – berkshire cunt (live) lyrics

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your blood, their blood
serves the same!

filled with love and compassion as she fixes her make+up for a day of fun
he reads the news, it depresses her
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 f+cking mess

and civilized upright citizens grin
as the dog’s t++th 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 bl++dy fur’s flying
re+applies her lipstick as the animals crying
he claims the tail as privileged prize

(chorus)
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
there they stand and there they grin. never thinking or questioning
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
she smiles at him as dead eyes stare
he takes her hand and strokes her hair
his fingertips soaked in misery mark of aristocracy
and the broken form lying in the ditch
handiwork of the dog and b+tch
bears the label of decency graciously

(chorus)
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!

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
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

(chorus)
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’ll hear it again
your blood, their blood!



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