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Correct Under The Plastic And NCT Lyrics
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Sleaford Mods
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Correct Under The Plastic And NCT
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Ryvita Ryvita Crack black pepper Comrades pick up your arms The long arm of the lawn is indeed in charge I won't talk to nice people if they look rich I know it's not on mate, I'm such a fuckin' bitch Surfing comments Lookin' at the likes Whilst the coppers chase bandits through the top valley skies To disagree on social networking sites Is to kill the counter-culture The overturn has died We pander to the camera And we want to be observed We dont get what we ask for We get what we deserve Stale fags hang on my clothes like indie band badges As I remember last night ignoring people I don't like Trying to buy a pint And what does it matter What if I rot inside a care home With eight of the bastards Immobile with crap banter Oh look there's Angry J - wah heeeey! Give us a tinkle on the rattling joanna, mate Under the plastic and NCT Of grained handmarks devour me Under the general weight of it all Exist impossible visions of you It's one of them ennit The violent exit Let's fuckin' bin it Ryvita existence A pointless opposition to the fat Of pointless State resistance And the State is no longer your voice The mechanics hijacked by the lies In false choice of a false fuckin' choice Tied up in death I hate the terror The horrible fear Whilst life knifes you as it screams: "You got fuck all left!" Under the plastic and NCT Of grained handmarks devour me Under the general weight of it all Exist impossible visions of you People might be in groups willingly Let 'em get on with it You can't expect people to listen to your fucking Mouth just because you don't believe in it Thousands of Saturday lager bellies punching the air Denouncing the value of somebody else's flag Whilst viciously believing in theirs Fucking useless this well-trodden street Vague notions about the so-called elite And that moulds spit Trent Bridge chaos It's not really is it? Cardboard heavies Drones to the delusions of a never-never land Where the cross rings out the orders Don't let the mechanics of beer Trick you into thinking you are some kind of warrior Eating barbwire on the wave of violent disorder Three words: Cage, Wheel, Hamster 'ere, here's a bit of cheese - nibble the bastard! Under the plastic and NCT Of grained handmarks devour me Under the general weight of it all Exist impossible visions of love
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