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The Selecter - Keeping The Trees Clean Lyrics

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

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