Paradise of Mine (Explicit)

Second class citizen in my own country!

Your fucking country?

What's your country?

Your country is a rich man with 5 or six houses

On your shoulder saying immigrants are stealing all of yours.

Your country is supplying arms to overseas wars,

For the profit of the nation, or the profit of the Lords?

No thought to the victims of the slaughter,

Tighten up borders,

Normalize talk about 'em drowning in the water.

Your country is alcoholism, heart attacks,

A post bar kebab, after a sparring match.

Your country is a rich cunts fear mongering,

Beer hunger & near blundering,

Any conversation bout a common enemy,

Because the poor are treated as guard dogs for the wealthy.

Your country is whatever the media tells you it is,

A warring, divided, cultural, shit-tip.

Keep your head tucked right under your hood,

'Cause the sun might blind you if you ever look up.

& go,

Come undress this little,

Paradise of mine.

Stay for a while.

You're lucky to be here,

We're happy to take you,

As long as you're exceptional,

If not we'll fucking hate you.

Officers, doctors, & businessfolk,

Builders & barbers & councilors,

Therapists bouncers:

They'll sharpen up good with a knife in their back.

Sex crazed, alcoholic, cavemen, thatLittle racist covered in plastic wrap.

You are lucky to be here,

But you already knew that.

Take the streets, start with the police, stand on your feet,

Fuck love, fuck peace, this is freedom of speech.

Or so you believe, riot & plea, violence is key,

Concerned citizens, patriots, oh please,

To the rich and elite, it's a spectator sport,

They had a hand in every single little thing that you thought.

Suffer your neighbours soon as they might get a taste of your blood,

To feel the full fucking force of the courts.

& go,

Come undress this little,

Paradise of mine.

Stay for a while.

Second class citizen in my own country!

Imagine you're a second class citizen in somebody else's.

And when you've burned down mosques & the dust settles it'sLike everybody lost & the rich got the better of it.

Never fucking blamed it on the leader,

You love too much the hand that feeds yaNow, so soon does your love make war,

Where your blood'll be the wine on the teeth of the lords.

& go,

Come undress this little,

Paradise of mine.

Stay for a while.

(Get ahead)

& go,

Come undress this little,

Paradise of mine.

Stay for a while.