Keeping The Trees Clean

The Selecter

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    Sticks and stones may break my bones
    But names will never hurt me
    Negro, nigger, wog, junglebunny
    Laugh you coon don't you think that's funny
    Spade, jigaboo, sambo, darky
    For those who are poets,
    Just paddy-malarkey
    Picaninny, half-caste, burrhead and blacky
    But why stop there let's get seriously whacky
    Gosh there's a golly, a mangomuncher
    Rubber lips, a callaloo cruncher
    Quadroon, high-yella, octoroon and lily-skin
    This is the shape our culture's in

    I'm keeping the trees clean
    I'm keeping the trees clean
    I'm keeping the trees clean

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    How does it feel to truly belong
    To know how you act is never wrong
    Always keeping expectations high
    Looking everyone square in the eye
    Never blamed for each indiscretion
    Conscious of leaving negative impressions
    Analysing every move that you make
    In every minute from the time that you wake
    Repeating a sentence again and again
    As if you were given less of a brain
    Hassling for every crumb from the table
    From the time you climbed out of the cradle
    Breaking your back 'cos you leant too far over
    To accommodate those rolling in clover
    Assimilating patterns of human behaviour
    Where everything's white, including the Saviour

    But hey,

    I'm keeping the trees clean
    I'm keeping the trees clean
    I'm keeping the trees clean
    I'm keeping the trees clean
    I'm keeping the trees clean
    I'm keeping the trees clean

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Pauline Black y Marthias Welsh

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