Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sheep Farming in the Falklands, artist - Crass. Date of issue: 01.10.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Sheep Farming in the Falklands |
| Sheep farming in the Falklands, re-arming in the fucklands |
| Fucking sheep in the homelands, her majesty’s forces are coming |
| Sheep farming in the Falklands, re-arming in the fucklands |
| Fucking sheep in the homelands, her majesty’s forces are coming |
| Sheep farming in the Falklands, re-arming in the fucklands |
| Fucking sheep in the homelands, her majesty’s forces are coming |
| Fuck off to the Falklands for your sea-faring fun |
| Big man’s jerk off dreamland, looking down the barrel of a gun |
| Friggin' in the riggin' another imperialist farce |
| Another page of British history to wipe the national arse |
| The royals donated Prince Andrew as a show of their support |
| Was it just luck the only ship that wasn’t struck was the one on which he |
| fought? |
| Three cheers for good old Andy, let’s take a pic for his mum |
| And stick it up the royal, stick it up the royal, stick it up the royal album |
| Sheep farming in the Falklands, re-arming in the fucklands |
| Fucking sheep in the homelands, her majesty’s forces are coming |
| Onward Thatcher’s soldiers, it’s your job to fight… |
| «And, you know, I don’t really give a toss if the cause is wrong or right |
| My political neck means more to me than the lives of a thousand men |
| If I felt it might be of use to me I’d do it all over again |
| The Falklands was really a coverup job to obscured the mistakes I’ve made |
| And you know I think gamble I took could certainly be said to have paid |
| With unemployment at an all-time high and the country falling apart |
| I, Winston Thatcher, reign supreme in this great nations' heart.» |
| Sheep farming in the Falklands, re-arming in the fucklands |
| Fucking sheep in the homelands, her majesty’s forces are coming |
| While the men who fought her battles are still expected to suffer |
| Thatcher proves in parliament that she’s just a fucking nutter |
| The iron lady’s proved her metal, has struck with her fist of steel |
| Has proved that a heart that is made out of lead is a heart that doesn’t feel |
| Sheep farming in the Falklands, re-arming in the fucklands |
| Fucking sheep in the homelands, her majesty’s forces are coming |
| Now Thatcher says… «Oh raunchy Ron, we’ve fought our war |
| Now it’s your turn to prove yourself in El Salvador |
| I’ve employed Micheal Heseltine to deal with P. R |
| He’s an absolute prick, but a media star |
| He’ll advocate the wisdom of our cruise missile plan |
| Then at last I’ll have a penis just like every other man |
| They can call it penis envy, but they’ll pay the price for it… |
| But the peasants are hungry Mags, «Let them eat shit» |
| Sheep farming in the Falklands, re-arming in the fucklands |
| Fucking sheep in the homelands, her majesty’s forces are coming |
| Who the fuck cares, we’re all having fun? |
| Mums and dads happy as their kids play with guns |
| The media loved it, when all’s said and done… |
| «Britain's bulldog’s off the leash» said the Sun |
| As the Argies and Brits got crippled or died |
| The bulldog turned around and crapped in our eyes |
| Brit wit, hypocrite, don’t you yet realise |
| You’re not playing with toys, you’re playing with lives… |
| You piss straight up in your self-righteous rage |
| Wilfs, goms and gimps in the nuclear age |
| Four minute warning, what a shock |
| Well balls to you rocket cock |
| You’re old and you’re ill and you’re soon going to die |
| You’ve got nothing to lose if you fill up the skies |
| You’d take us all with you, yeah, it’s tough at the top |
| You slop bucket, shit filled, puss ridden, death pimp snot. |
| YAH FUCK |