Proclaimers - Disgrace - Текст песни

That old idea you're trying to sell 
Is ancient, but it rings a bell 
You scrub it and it comes up well 
But still smells 

You wrap that poison up in lace 
And sell it on by the case 
You still judge people by their race 
You disgrace 

In a place far from here 
Live people whom you hold dear 
Who judge you like you're judging them too 
They feed you 

The more you say, the more I find 
To you hatred is never blind 
It's colourful and well defined 
In your mind. 

In a place far from here 
Live people whom you hold dear 
Who judge you like you're judging them too 
They feed you 
They feed you 

You wrap that poison up in lace 
And sell it on by the case 
You still judge people by their race 
You disgrace 
Ah, You disgrace 
You disgrace