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The Clash
The Clash


Информация
Откуда London, England
Жанры Punk Rock
Годы 1976—1986
Лейблы Columbia Records
См. также Gorillaz
The 101'ers
London SS
Generation X
The Rich Kids
Cowboys International
General Public
Big Audio Dynamite
Havana 3am
The Latino Rockabilly War
The Pogues
The Mescaleros
Carbon/Silicon
The Good, the Bad and the Queen
Сайт Website
Бывшие участники
Mick Jones
Keith Levene
Paul Simonon
Terry Chimes
Joe Strummer
Rob Harper
Nicky "Topper" Headon
Pete Howard
Nick Sheppard
Vince White



Music World  →  Тексты песен  →  T  →  The Clash  →  Дискография  →  Cut The Crap

Альбом The Clash


Cut The Crap (1985)
1985
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Yes I am the dictator the more guns I got the better
Yes I am the liquidator I carry the old Beretta
You know there once was freedom
You know how dangerous that can be
The people used to dance & sing
& they used to run wild in the streets
But now I am the voice
Howling from your radio
From my armour plated Cadillac
You'll hear what I say goes

Yes I am the dictator I satisfy the U.S. team
I always do my killing in the woods & keep the city gutters clean
Cos I need a few more dollars
For my fighter pilot to be free
To dive bomb on the population
If they go running wild in the streets
Yes I am that voice...etc

Yes I am the crusador I spent twenty years in exile
But now I am the invader & I'm never never gonna die
Yes I am the dictator my name is on your ballot sheet
But until my box has your cross you know the form is incomplete
And you know........etc

. . .


Gonna be a dirty punk
Gonna rock your neighborhood
Do the sound of rebel funk
Turn it up loud like it should

I could hear your momma scream
She's gonna waste herself away
When your daddy smashed that TV screen
I understand what he had to say

I'm going to get me a big, big, big
Big, Big car
Then I'm gonna drive, drive, drive
I'm gonna drive so far
Up your boulevard
Up your boulevard
So far up your boulevard

Gonna be a dirty punk
While my brother dresses clean
He used to be the local hunk
The girls all ride in my machine(?)

How bout the time I made him drunk
And he insult my brotherhood
I shout out I am a dirty punk
Gonna rock your neighbohood

I'm going to get a big, big, big
Big, Big car
Then I'm gonna drive, drive, drive
I'm gonna drive so far
Up your boulevard
Up your boulevard
So far up your boulevard

Gonna get a big, big, big
Go faster!
Then I'm gonna go! Big!
Let's go to (???)
Up your boulevard
Up your boulevard
Go so far up your boulevard

Gonna drive my big, big, big
Big, Big car
Then I'm gonna drive, drive, drive
I'm gonna drive so far
Up your boulevard
Up your boulevard
So far up your boulevard

. . .


Punk rockers, hip-hoppers
Brit poppers, show stoppers
Beboppers, hair droppers
Are you ready to sing?

Right wing, left wing
I want something
Easy to say
Bout what do you think

We ain't gonna be treated like trash
We got one thing
We are the Clash
What?
We are the Clash
It's like a patch
You can strike that match

With my guitar now
The Cuban's last dance
I see them where they beatin' from
And the injuries stay

Beating on a drum
Did they tell them 'take it in'
Got the nervous sort of feelin'
Where the fat boy blew

We ain't gonna be treated like trash
We got one thing
We are the Clash
That's right
We are the Clash
It's like a patch
You can strike that match

Home fires burnin'
In motorcycle city
The rockin' gods will choose
If I'm worthy to live (rock rock clash city rockers)
The first to next engine
In jail at forty-six
And there's no more between ya..
To imitate respect

We ain't gonna be treated like trash
We got one thing
We are the Clash
Don't take no shit
We are the Clash
Do ya hear me?
It's like a patch
You can strike that match

. . .


Are you ready for
Are you ready for
War
War
War

High above the satellites
View the Earth
(???) nights
Europe switches off those lights

Are you ready for
War, all in all this sentimental
War, wall to wall with the regimental
War, with all the things continental
Are you red

War
War
War

There's no use runnin' a mobile home
Everywhere is a target zone
Hell is ringing on the red, red phone

Are you ready for

War, all that is futuristic
War, all that is realistic
War, all that will be ballistic
Are you red

War
War
War

Are you ready for
Are you ready for

Vodka chilled in the Kremlin bar
Ride on the rocky (???) and hold my arm
Raise my glass and break it on the bar

Are you ready for
War, all in all this sentimental
War, wall to wall with the regimental
War, with all the things continental
Are you red

Are you ready for
War
War
War

. . .


Rebels on the corner
Rebels to the core
Got a million dollar question
What is livin' for?

Hey! Man can scratch a livin'
In a fat man's city class
The teacher is survival
But soon the present will be the past

So!
Be cool under heat
Be cool under heat
Be cool on the street
Be cool under heat

When you're rockin' down
On a cold hard night
Pitiless eyes of the cityless souls
Narrow in the lights

Sorrow upon sorrow
Go ganging up in your head
You can leave it till tomorrow
If you can balance on the edge

Hey!
Be cool under heat
Be cool under heat
Be cool on the street
Be cool under heat

When the baby and you got to fight
Go cool your love in the rain
When the match refuses to strike
Show that you really are in pain

I'm giving you a warning
Gonna burn those blue suede shoes
Swagger in the mornin'
Prints up front page news

Be cool under heat
Be cool under heat
Be cool on the street
Be cool under heat

. . .


The boy stood in the burning slum
Better times had to come
Fate lay in the hands that clap
The muscles that move & the power that raps
He went up on money street
Waving an poping to the beat
Off his wits an on his feet
He worked a coin from the cold concrete

Movers & shakers come on you got what it takes to make it
Movers an shakers come on even if you have to fake it

Where the highway meets the lights
With a red bandanna & rapid wipes
He shines Glass and he cleans chrome
He'll accept what he gets thrown
This man earns cos its understood
Times are bad and he's makin good
Down on him but he's got it beat
He's working coin from the cold concrete

Movers & shakers come on....etc
And when I see you down & I say
That aint no way through that aint no way through
Movers & shakers come on....etc

Way back in some city heat
When a friend was anybody with food to eat
It was lousy life with a leaking roof
We got up to find that truth
Make a drum from a garbage can
Allow your tongue to be a man
When the beat propels you off your seat
You got it made in the cold concrete

Movers & shakers come on!

. . .


I hear a gang fire on a human factory farm
Are they howling out or doing somebody harm
On a catwalk jungle somebody grabbed my arm
A voice spoke so cold it matched the weapon in her palm

This is England
This knife of Sheffield steel
This is England
This is how we feel

Time on his hands freezing in those clothes
He won't go for the carrot
They beat him by the pole
Some sunny day confronted by his soul
He's out at sea, too far off, he can't go home

This is England
What we're supposed to die for
This is England
And we're never gonna cry no more

Black shadow of the Vincent
Falls on a Triumph line
I got my motorcycle jacket
But I'm walking all the time
South Atlantic wind blows
Ice from a dying creed
I see no glory
When will we be free

This is England
We can chain you to the rail
This is England
We can kill you in a jail

The British boots go kick them
Got 'em in the head
Police ain't watchin'
The newspapers been read
Who cares to protest
A (???) in the eye like a flare
Out came the batons and
The British warned themselves

This is England
The land of (il)legal dances
This is England
Land of a thousand stances
This is England
This knife of Sheffield steel
This is England
This is how we feel
This is England
This is England

. . .


Patriots of the wasteland torching two hundred years
Dragging my spirit back into the dungeon again
Bring back crucification cry the moral death's head legion
Using steel nails manufactured by the slaves in Asia

You wont fall for that law and order is a baton in the rib
You wont fall for that just like your mummy & your daddy did

Blood inside a fountain pen wrote you out of life again
& who knows any better than to kick and scratch under English weather
>From a chain gang to the mill. The mill that sits on top of the hill
The fog drowned towns arr gonna have to fade
The wrong side of the a scissor blade

You wont fall for that law and order is a baton in the rib
You wont fall for that just like your mummy & your daddy did
I'll eat my hat I'm gonna be sick
They own the pack while we play the three card trick

Dont you remember the place
Where we hid the ace?
Yeah not thick but slick
Now we all gotta play the three card trick

. . .


[Spoken]

[Voice:] Hey (???) piranah
[Joe:] Yup and the piranah got it
[V:] Yeah, well if it's hooligan you want
[J:] We British will tear upon the street
[V:] (???)
[J:] I see you've lived in Germany.
[V:] Yankee (???)
[J:] (???)
[V:] (???)

[Sung]
I long for the prairie
Of the wild frontier
We got to take it to the space age
(???) back at pioneers

[V:] I thought I'd call a taxi
[J:] Well what you got is a police car
[V:] Are you gonna (???) cleanin'?
[J:] (???) use a burglar
[V:] (???)
[J:] I'll say to give you a kiss
[V:] No (???)
[J:] Come on lets go out get smashed

I long for the prairie
Of the wild frontier
We got to take it to the space age
(???) back at pioneers

[V:] What kind of food for the picnic
[J:] Hey don't worry about our (???)
[V:] (???) obviously then
[J:] Well everyday seems the same
[V:] No. I don't want (???)
[J:] Look at you. Turn your plastic into gold.
[V:] (???)
[J:] Just get your face in a centerfold
[V:] 2,3,4

I long for the prairie
Of the wild frontier
We got to take it to the space age
(???) back at pioneers

. . .


This here finger of mine
Is gonna point to the beat, right on time
This finger points in a brand new dance
This finger points for a new romance

This here finger's got no ring
It'll point at anything
This finger points gonna pop tonight
Gonna point at the best girl in sight

Don't talk shop
Fingerpop
Don't talk shop
Fingerpop

Girls, girls round the floor
Are you wondering what you came for
Why do these boys stand in groups
Are they urban tribes of fighting troops

Girls, girls it's time to act
Time to beat gonna make contact
Make it plain and make it clear
Just point out who you want to hear

Don't talk shop
Round the house
Fingerpop

Dont' talk shop
(???)
Man or mouse

Don't talk shop
Fingerpop
Don't talk shop
Fingerpop

Boys, boys cat got your tongue
Can't you see she's the prettiest one
Better act real hurt
Just turn around kickin' the dirt

This here (???) is on selling street
Tell the girl who you want to meet
This here finger gonna point tonight
Gonna point at the best girl in sight

Gonna move
Gonna move
Gonna move
Gonna move

Girls, girls go around the floor
Can't remember what you came here for

Don't talk shop
Fingerpop
Don't talk shop
Fingerpop

This here finger of mine
Gonna point to the beat, right on time
This finger points in a brand new dance
This finger points for a new romance

This here finger's got no ring
And it gets to point at anything
This finger points rock tonight
Gonna point at the best girl in sight

. . .


And so we say
We ain't got life
Don't want a cardboard cut-out
Don't want a plastic knife

Now I know, time can march
With it's chargin' feet
Now I know, words are only cheap
It's gonna be a burn out
All around this town
The South is up
But the North is down

There's gonna be a killin'
Of a woman and a man
Trying to feed that child
Without a coin in their hand

And so we say
Have you no use
For eight million hands
And the power of youth

Now I know, time can march
With it's chargin' feet
Now I know, words are only cheap
It's gonna be a burn out
All around this town
The South is up
But the North is down

There's gonna be a killin'
Of a woman and a man
Trying to feed that child
Without a coin in their hand

It's gonna be a burn out!

And so we say
We ain't diggin' no graves
We're diggin' a foundation
For a future to be made

Now I know, time can march
With it's chargin' feet
Now I know, words are only cheap
It's gonna be a burn out
All around this town
The South is up
But the North is down

There's gonna be a killin'
Of a woman and a man
Trying to feed that child
Without a coin in their hand

It's gonna be a burn out!

. . .


Hey anybody got a cigarette?

Has anybody got a cigarette
Haven't you declared a disaster zone
Ho! Your car is a total wreck
And I just can't go back home

My girl if she had the dope
We'd get the messieurs on the phone
I still got to get up and go home
Don't start driving on my headstone

Go!
Life is wild life is free
Make him want to stop, gonna fall on me
Life is wild life is free
Make him want to stop, gonna (???) me

Here's to all of my kindred souls
He got a life but ain't got no style
Well heard that your story goes
You nearly broke down after half a mile

Hey that is the way it goes
You better keep a note on file
You'll have to reap what I suppose
Gets you a floor and a (???)

Life is wild life is free
Make him want to stop, gonna fall on me
Life is wild life is free
Make him want to stop, gonna (???) me

Somebody got a cigarette?
A guitar or a blank cassette
Hey! The last thing he'd expect in his bar
Gonna chart the rise of my star

Life is wild life is free
Make him want to stop, gonna fall on me
Life is wild life is free
Make him want to stop, gonna (???) me

. . .


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