He’s the only one
You say you’ve found Buddha
Sittin’ in the sun
You say you found Mohammed
Facin’ to the East
You say you found Krishna
Dancin’ in the street
Well there’s somethin’ missing in this God Almighty stew
And it’s your mother (your mother, don’t forget your mother, la)
You got to serve yourself
nobody gonna do for you
You gotta serve yourself
nobody gonna do for you
Well you may believe in devils and you may believe in laws
But if you don’t go out and serve yourself, la, ain’t no room service here
It’s still the same old story
A bloody Holy War
I fight for love and glory
Ain’t gonna study war no more
I fight for God and country
We’re gonna set you free
or put you back in the Stone Age
If you won’t be like me – y’get it?
You got to serve yourself
Ain’t nobody gonna do for you
You got to serve yourself
Ain’t nobody gonna do for you
Yeah you may believe in devils and you may believe in laws
‘But Christ, you’re gonna have to serve yourself and that’s all there is to it.
So get right back here it’s in the bloody fridge. God, when I was a kid.
Didn’t have stuff like this, TV-fuckin’ dinners and all that crap.
You fuckin’ kids (are) all the fuckin’ same! Want a fuckin’ car now…
Lucky to have a pair of shoes!’
You tell me you found Jesus. Christ!
Well that’s great and he’s the only one
You say you just found Buddha?
and he’s sittin’ on his arse in the sun?
You say you found Mohammed?
Kneeling on a bloody carpet facin’ the East?
You say you found Krishna
With a bald head dancin’ in the street? (‘Well Christ, la, you’re goin out your bleedin’ girth’)
You got to serve yourself
Ain’t nobody gonna do for you (‘that’s right, la, you better get that straight
in your fuckin’ head’)
You gotta serve yourself (‘you know that, who else is gonna do it for you, it ain’t me, kid, I tell you that’)
Well, you may believe in Jesus, and you may believe in Marx
And you may believe in Marks and Spencer’s and you maybe believe in bloody
Woolworths
But there’s something missing in this whole bloody stew
And it’s your mother, your poor bloody mother (‘she what bore you in the
back bedroom, full of piss and shit and fuckin’ midwives. God, you can’t
forget that all too quick, you know. You should have been in the bloody
war, la, and you’da known all about it.
Well, I’ll tell you something.’)
It’s still the same old story
A Holy bloody War, you know, with the Pope and all that stuff
I fight for love and glory
Ain’t gonna study no war, more war
I fight for God and country, the Queen and all that
We’re gonna set you free. yeah? all them “nig-nogs”? sure…
Bomb you back into the fuckin’ Stone Age
If you won’t be like me, you know, get down on your knees and pray
Well there’s somethin’ missing in this God Almighty stew
And it’s your goddamn mother you dirty little git, now
get in there and wash yer ears!