lirik lagu qeld - pauper pit
[bobby nechayev]
crawling out the pauper pit with all of those we’d fallen with
it’s all amiss, the thoughtlessness of all the pigs who brought us this
and taught us it’s a fraughtless wish to ever see the light of day
and taunt us with the gruel they give and wanna sn-tch our lives away
got us breaking rocks for em
not a break we got from em
gotta make a lot for em
on the way i watch for em
more than asbestos, this victorian sweatshop
where the toryest men got their bourgeoisie heads chopped
victorious, then what? the planet still burns
the warming of temps got cadavers returned
i’m warning you then stop, you haven’t yet learned
that these fuhrers and despots, we’re hanging in turn
listen
your revolution’s a fairground envisioned
our revolution we tear down the prisons
tear down the workhouse gates that we live in
and the burnt out state that is britain
[hook]
crawling out the pauper pit
oughta slaughter all of it
crawling out the pauper pit
spectre haunting all of it
(x3)
and workhouse ground isn’t hallowed
have you heard that sound from the gallows?
[jenre]
crawling out the pauper pit with claws that caused their rules to give
in awe and all appalled with this, the awfulness they fool us with
you’re called a snitch, no awkwardness, i saw you dip and right away
talkative with all the pigs who wanna sn-tch our rights away
got us in a locked cell
watching us like rockwell
not a chance we got bail
till prison labour stocks fail
more than a warden, cl-ss war isn’t for em
crack jaws when we floor em, victorian foremen
the storm isn’t pouring, the planet still burns
the warming is forming cadavers returned
the bourgeoisie’s swarming, but haven’t yet learned
that with tories we’re warring, and hang em in turn
listen
your revolutions don’t envision demolition
our revolution’s one of prison abolition
tear down the workhouse gates that we live in
and the burnt out state that is britain
[hook]
[jenre/bobby]
they throw us down a mineshaft, thatcher had the miners shafted
we organise a fightback (like the shining path did)
they throw us in a m-ss grave, eastville workhouse
or throw us in the rat-race, we feel burnt out
a little surprising, the way the workers won
check the bristol uprising of 1831
check out your local history
records of total misery
ending our social victories with blatant murders done
crawling out the pauper pit, oughta slaughter all of it
crawling out the pauper pit of capitalist authorship
crawling out the pauper pit, mauling all your foolishness
crawling out the pauper pit, spectre haunting all of it
crawling out the pauper pit, causing all this lawlessness
bun draws in the pauper pit, hung drawn & quartered it
and workhouse ground isn’t hallowed
have you heard that sound from the gallows?
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