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letra de devil's delight - b.b.s.

[verse 1: rare]
i’m not a racist guy, but i fly my aussie flag high
i stand by my country but i see my city p-ssing by
too many people not giving a sh-t
and did we forget about those diggers? man well, they were just kids
the hardest f-cking workers, more than you ever did
you think you’re hard? you ain’t it and you haven’t shift sh-t
it p-sses me off to see blokes fight together ten on one
does it make you feel better, ‘cause you think you can box
evil war came along, used to be the bunch
with a white feather in your letter box, my tether stops
i’m sick of c-nts fighting with knives and guns
my parents got divorced when i was five years young
i never use it as an excuse to fight or run
i love this country so much, it makes me cry
for this place, i die, embrace the australian way
if not, then, sorry bro, you’re the racist guy

[hook: zoe badwi]
don’t you feel it from your heart?
[?] fall apart
don’t you feel it from your heart?
ooh, it’s a start
don’t you feel it from your heart?
ooh, it’s not that hard
don’t you feel it from your heart?
it’s now; leave it all in the past

[verse 2: j stark]
yeah, my grandfathers fought proud for this country
you can blame working nine to five for the money
it’s not funny, their wives waited lonely
you think tough is playing knife games with the homies
you’re all phony f-ggots who don’t deserve the rights
the street’s a trench as you snuggle up in bed tonight
medals on their chest, not the medal in
your best, you’re not hard, we laid pedals where they rest
we live a free life because of these heroes
battlefields with tanks you’re all rank and you’re zero
i thank the young men that took to the battleground
weren’t trained for it, just walked when their numbers sound
i’m humble now when i do something unannounced
it might be good but nothing on the sorrows drought
so, keep beating people within an inch of their life
realise we think you’re a myth and just a b-tch with a knife

[verse 3: yorgs]
yeah, it was figures picking numbers, some barely kids
giving orders and sticks and sentry pits
with sh-lls nearly hitting their helmets in the trench
you can tell it was h-ll when they reminisce the stench
now, i’m clenching a cane in pain of their history
the way that we treat them, to me, it’s a mystery
so blissfully suffered and righteously for us
while we wouldn’t even offer a seat up on the bus
rather slumber with sl-ts and [?] and cuss
while troops busted nut from dawn ‘til dusk
and it’s more than rough that they’re d-mn near suicide
a man turning fluent type, illy turning blue inside
man’s in tears, visit once a year
their faces are changing but their name’s unclear
it’s clear, he’s going mental in his [?] coop
with nothing edible for dental and vegetable soup, it sucks

[outro: zoe badwi]
ooh, can you feel it? can you feel it?
can you feel it from the heart?
ooh, can you feel it? can you feel it?
can you feel it from the heart?

- b b s

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