Keeping the Trees Clean Songtext
von The Selecter

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But names will never hurt me

Negro, nigga, wog, junglebunny
Laugh, ya coon, don′t you think that's funny?
Spade, jigger, boo, Sambo, darkie
For those who are poets, just Paddy-malarkey
Pickaninny, half-cast, burrhead and blackie
But why stop there? Let′s get seriously wacky
Gosh, there's a golly, a mango muncher
A rubber lips, a callaloo cruncher
Quadroon, high yellow, 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 ′cause 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
I′m keeping the trees clean
I'm keeping the trees clean
I′m keeping the trees clean