Lyrics The Unelected President - Crass

The Unelected President

we’re looking for a better world, but what do we see?
poverty, hatred and misery.
so much money spent on war
when so many on this earth are so helplessly poor.
the unelected president sits at his desk, planning another attack,
since the dramatic coup of september 11 he’s never had to look back.
a war that won’t end in our lifetime is the madness he throws at our world;
he talks of 'the axis of evil' while threatening evils untold.
attack is the word, yet he calls it defence, but tell me just who is it for?
will the starving millions in their struggle for life
hope to benefit through his vicious war?
is it some part of his brain that is dead, that allows him to act as he does,
or is it maybe we who are dead in letting him persist in this madness?
there are so many of us, yet he gets his own way with criminal threats of
terror,
surely it’s time to strip him of power, to stand against war and its horror?
he’d destroy us all with his cancerous mind and his greed for the power of
black-gold,
he’ll willingly order a million dead to ensure that the line can be sold.
this man and his cohorts who advocate war should be made to wade in the truth
of it,
made to spend sleepless nights quaking in fear
and by daytime to crawl in the death of it.
they’ll find the truth of what they do there;
festering corpses they and their
kind bled,
the eternal stare of eyeless skulls telling the truth of military trade.
the earth is our home;
the wind and the air, the blue sky, the grass and the
trees,
but these masters of war, what do they care?
they’re only sentiments these.
it’s our world, our dignity, happiness, pride, but they seek to wrench it away,
with constant reminders of the horrors of war they turn every colour to grey.
they undermine values with their lies and deceit, make life a trial of fear,
they mock and deride our inner beliefs, make us feel that we’re mad if we care.
well, we do care.
it’s our home.
they’ve been at it too long.
if it’s a fight they want here’s a beginning.
throughout history we’ve been expected to sing war’s tired songs
but now it’s our turn to lead the singing…