Crass

And I've been thinking about going down south Where the dust gets in your nose and you can put your money where your mouth is Tesco to Waitrose From The Wyre to The Thames Can't see my conscience in this muddy, muddy, muddy water These buildings all look the same The concrete wraps around the low budget airlines And the sounds of people walking quickly Where the sand can't get in your toes Home of the lions and the hot, hot, hot weather You're not a child anymore Ask where the money goes to The land was ablaze It started to rain and I was back again Drowning myself in sweat And I think me and Kanye might still have sex That building wasn't there the other day I wonder what's inside it Artificial lawn culture Flattering angles I say the same thing ten times to illicit a response There's nothing I love more than the sound of my own voice By the blood of a Catholic BMOT I'm sorry For being so narcissistic People tell me what to say I'm just a man Robbie's gone And I'm more than just a Jason in your damn Take That cover band I wish I was like you I've always wanted to go slumming Compose myself of all vertical shapes Because I've heard it's slimming Sometimes I go up north but only to take pictures And me and my friends only ever talk of making Richard richer You're not a child anymore Ask where the money goes to The land was ablaze It started to rain and I was back again Drowning myself in sweat And I think me and Kanye might still have sex I swear that building wasn't there yesterday What's inside it? Artificial lawn culture Flattering angles I say the same thing ten times to illicit a response There's nothing I love more than the sound of my own voice In the morning