Hurry Up Garry (the Parsons Farted) Lyrics - Stations Of The Crass - Crass

The bastards, what are they playing at? 

Don't like the music, don't like the words 

Don't like the sentiments 

Well keep it for the birds and bees, boys, bastards 

Yes that's right, I stepped out of line 

What do you want? What do you want? 

As long as I play it moderate, that's fine 

Fuck off runt, fuck off runt 

Pick your nose with your ball pen, put your snot in Sounds 

Back to your play pen with your street cred minds 

You whimper and whine from the pages of the press 

Ridicule and criticise those who want to change this mess 

There's people our there who are trying to live 

People who care, now, what do you give? 

So many parasites living off our sweat 

So many fuckers in for what they can get 

Punk ain't about your standards and your rules 

It ain't another product for the suckers and the fools 

Your sit behind your typewriters shovelling shit 

Rotting in the decadence of your crap lined pit 

Waiting for the action, so you can grab a part 

But it stinks so bad [where you come from] 

Who's going to smell your fart? 

"CAN YOU PUT ME ON THE GUESTLIST? 

IS THERE ANY FREEBIE DRINK? 

I CAN'T WRITE UNLESS I FEEL WELL PISSED" 

Piss off, you fucking stink.