Reality Whitewash Lyrics - You'll Ruin It For Everyone - Crass

The grey man at the wheel 

Looks around to see if there's some skirt he can steal 

He doesn't really want to, he's just acting out a game 

In their own fucked up way, most people do the same 

She cleans the bathroom mirror 

So she can line her eyes 

An expert in delusion, an artist in disguise 

She's not content with what she is, but she does the best she can 

Doesn't do it for herself, she does it for her man 

And meanwhile he's out hunting, this master of the hunt 

Cruising down the high street in his endless search for cunt 

And the posters on the hoardings encourage his pursuit 

Glossy ads, where men are men, and women simply cute 

And the men are in their motorcars and the men have nerves of steel 

And they dreams of Charlies Angels as they firmly grip the wheel 

And they fantasise they're screwing in the back seat of the car 

Fantasise they're fucking with a real life movie star 

Fantasies to fill the gaps, to fill in every crack 

A whitewash on reality to hide the truth they lack 

Now she's sponging down the cooker, on the surface all is fine 

His dinner's in the oven cos he's doing overtime 

She switches on the telly, it makes her feel secure 

Helps confirm her way of life, who needs to ask for more 

She sees the happy family unit, wife and hubby on the screen 

The perfect social unit, just like it's always been 

She's done the very best she can 

To love and honour and obey her man 

And if she should ever doubt the wisdom of her choice 

She can turn on the television for its moderating voice 

The ads and weekly series are the proof she needs 

That a life of boredom outweighs the deeds 

She sits up till the epilogue and goes to bed alone 

Content that when he's finished work he'll go straight home 

Meanwhile he has another scotch, the lady has a coke 

If he's asked about the wife he treats it as a joke 

"Hear the one about the you-know-what" 

He's got what it takes and he takes what he's got 

He took his woman and he'll take plenty more 

She took on a rat to keep the wolf from the door 

Then maybe in her loneliness she'll want to have a child 

Who'll be taught the games of adulthood, boxed and filed 

Another life to whitewash, to us a child is born 

To follow in its parents' tracks, the path's well worn 

Fantasy and falsehood, truth and lie 

The fucked up system they call reality 

They system needs its servants, each birth is one more 

Gently talk of freedom as they quietly lock the door 

Cos the system needs its servants if the system's going to run 

Fodder for the workhouse, targets for the gun