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Yes Sir, I Will

Crass

Christ the Bootleg

1999

versions of Feeding of the 5000
By jerks whose only fuck off to the system has been one off the wrist?
It's the Feeding of the 5 Knuckle Shuffle.

*
If

version of James Dean
Hiding behind a popped collar but my ears can be seen, I'm
Giddily giggling with glee
As if no one can see me, I'm
Giddily giggling

in a hearse

You'd rather cast shade than stand in the light
You'd rather talk shit than stand and fight
You'd rather sit around and spew your hate

even need a visa
But I do feel like life without you is almost worse than lockup
Tell me, can we find love after a breakup
Reconcile and make up, reunite

there was more than one actor involved in this play 
It was never a one man show, tell me something that I don't know
I heard someone killed Kennedy! What

seems like you never won't cause
You ain't different yet and you don't know the new version of me
So
Don't ask why I talk like that
Don't tell me that I

back from my classes
Or at Quals or at Little 5
But then every other time he was always by your side
I knew that something had clicked
And I was

a theory of everything that makes due sense
But don't you know
Whether quantum or dynamic
In thought or by standard
That the moment you know something it

The goddess of fate took notice of the newborn me
"What an adorable baby," she giggled wickedly with glee
"Oh, I know, let's cast a spell on her for

that's good for my soul
Good for my
Good for my soul
Something that's good for my soul

I wonder whether 
You are still close to me 
Or the younger
More

I wanted and hit a lick fast
Lil good boy now a nigga big bad yeah a nigga big bad
And pissed off
If you can’t do it by the book then what’d you read

I was 8 years old
This gets a little overwhelming
I'm the psychonaut in this spirit mode
Cast myself into oblivion till the point
Of a deathly ego
Oh

a spell
I been thru shit I won’t tell
God by my side I propel
They hate on me but oh well
I’m doin fine with no help
She want me back but I’m good
My new

and wrong
And share with me: do you owe that kid a song?
Or were you killed by the age-fifteen version
And the guilt that made age sixteen worse

the next bullet end up?

There is no funeral procession 
Going on here today 
Unless it’s led by Fred Wesley
Gardner trumpeting a lively version 
When

Don't let me look in the past, look at where I was at, before Jesus had rescued me, held Me tight
Help me be the best version, during this conversion,

alone I fear

Come and see my mental home movies
I never am the star - the villain though by far
A good day can slowly waste away
And all that it takes

and to my surroundings
And enabled them to identify me
The amount of years I've spent living up to whatever others say about me
But God says something else

to the center of the spot
Any spot wondering what if anything I might spot
Now I spy with my little eye
Something @ the door good lord looking fly
Should I say

can't take it back?
Sand in the hourglass (the hourglass)
Keep my name alive once the time pass by me
Sand in the hourglass (the hourglass)
Never take for

They saw the worst version of me and think its me entirely
They heard the first verse and wrote me off in spite of everything
Tell me what the future

bredrins who all alluded 
to hating me and themselves
Teaching me to thereby hate myself
Now I left two kids by two cows
And never said bye son
They lay flat

wasn’t always something that I could see
Sylla Psy Selek, the spectacular version

Attracting cash disbursements that cast aspersions on caste 
Like

perspire 
Or learn to persevere 
Left lane hold up let me explain
Fuck it
See through them like I'm using x-ray
Fuck it
Got dang hopped off of the bed frame