Primal Scream, Irvine Welsh and On-U-Sound - Electric Soup Dub | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Primal Scream, Irvine Welsh and On-U-Sound
• Electric Soup Dub

In Scotland we flatter the English by giving victories over them a significance they don't fuckin' merit.
If it was such a big deal to defeat the English others wouldn't get so fuckin' bored doin' it.

In every hick town in Caledonia across this pseudo nation you can see the most fucked up scum that was shat into creation. Where a blue McEwan's lager top equals no imagination... think you're a success? Your psyche is a mess, your economy is in distress, you're hunbelievable.

The mystery of scottish sport is why we hate the English so. I love the English very much as long as they don't fuckin' beat us in the European Nations Cup.

We're sitting outside Wembley in `79 - Jock punks in London, massive carry out - talking to a guy in an ice cream van, so drunk for weeks and we're goin way past the point of wanting tickets - it would be horrendous now if someone has to hand you a fuckin' ticket.

You'd have to leave all the bevy outside the grounds by the polis dump bins. No fucking way!

Ten minutes, ten minutes into the fucking game, we'd be climbing up the fucking walls to get out. Fuc-kin' hell.

Remember the banner "alcoholism beats communism"? Well it beats the fuck out of football as well.

What do they do with all the confiscated bevy, the polis? Buckets and bags of it? Give it to the jakies? nah. Drink it themselves? mibbe. Give it back to the retailers so they can sell it all back to us over again, the fuckin' cunts? Yes!

Sittin' and waiting for the inevitable shot out that never comes.
Sittin' and waiting for the inevitable shot out that never fuckin' comes.