reality whitewash
Singer:crass
the grey man at the wheel
looks around to see if there's some skirt he can steal
he doesn't really want to
he's just acting out a game
and in their own fucked up way
she cleans the bathroom mirror so she can line her eyes
she's not content with what she is
but she does the best she can
but she doesn't do it for herself
and meanwhile he's out hunting
cruising down the high street in his endless search for cunt
and the posters on the hoardings encourage his pursuit
and the men are in their motorcars and the men have nerves of steel
and they dreams of charlies angels as they firmly grip the wheel
and they fantasise they're screwing in the back seat of the car
fantasise they're fucking with a real life movie star
fantasies to fill the gaps
a whitewash of reality to hide the truth they lack. now she's sponging down the cooker
on the surface all is fine
his dinner's in the oven cos he's doing overtime
she switches on the telly
helps confirm her way of life
who needs to ask for more
she sees the happy family unit
wife and hubby on the screen
just like it's always been
she's done the very best she can
to love and honour and obey her man
and if she should ever doubt the wisdom of her choice
she can turn on the television for its moderating voice
the ads and weekly series are the proof she needs
that a life of boredom outweighs the deeds
she sits up till the epilogue and goes to bed alone
content that when he's finished work he'll go straight home
meanwhile he downs another scotch
and if he's asked about the wife he treats it as a joke
hear the one about the you-know-what"