Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

A Note From A Village By A Lake

Why don’t you go back where you came from?

Toothy little fucks, the lot of you. Slums of Hackney got too full and you waltzed in here like you belonged. Like you could ever belong, as if you wouldn’t be spotted in a crowd every time. They told me in school the first of you came looking to practice your “religion,” but schools are just buildings full of lies. That “religion” of yours? Incompatible with civilized folks. Just look at your history and fuck off and take the Scots with you, Limey.

And the Irish. Seems like they’re everywhere nowadays, shoving their culture down your throat. “Wah, there’s no food. Wah, there’s no jobs.” Why don’t you stand up and fight for your country? Why is America responsible for your suffering? We can’t be the world’s babysitter.

The Germans, Jesus. Don’t get me started on the Germans. They infest neighborhoods and then there’s pretzels everywhere. And that fucking language of theirs that they insist on speaking in public where my children can hear it. Dutch, too. Dutch, German, who can tell the difference? Foreign is foreign.

The Swedes bring diseases, and the Finns have too many children. The Flemish steal.

So, why don’t you go back where you came from?

Who the fuck invited you, anyway?

1 Comment

  1. Or, as good ol’ Firesign Theatre said in 1968 (on their first elpee),

    CIVILIZATION HO!!!!!!!!!

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