Letra Berkshire cunt de Conflict

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Increase the pressure

1984

01. Increase the pressure
02. Law and order
03. From protest to resistance
04. Tough shit mickey
05. Punk inn'it
06. As others see us
07. Cruise
08. The positive junk
09. The system maintains
10. Berkshire cunt
11. The guilt and the glory (how many more lies)
12. Stop the city
13. One nation under the bomb
14. Blind attack
15. Vietnam serenade
16. Blood morons
17. Exploitation
18. Whichever way you want it

Berkshire cunt

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

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

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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

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