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from Chumbawamba - Showbusiness [live] (1995)
Tall as houses
Small as spiders Undefined this buzz inside us Tightrope walker Chaos order I fell right into heaven/hell Devil take me God forsake me Made my home in heaven/hell Out of ruins growing pains Wide-eyed pirates crossing bones Tightrope walker Chaos order I fell right into heaven/hell Devil take me God forsake me Made my home in heaven/hell Kicking giants drowned in reason Breaking old building new Tightrope walker Chaos order I fell right into heaven/hell Devil take me God forsake me Made my home in heaven/hell |
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from Chumbawamba - Showbusiness [live] (1995)
Up behind the bus stop in the toilets off the street
There are traces of a killing on the floor beneath your feet Mixed in with the piss and beer are bloodstains on the floor From the boy who got his head kicked in a night or two before. Homophobia-the worst disease You can't love who you want to love in times like these Homophobia-the worst disease You can't love who you want to love in times like these In the pubs, clubs and burger bars, breeding pens for pigs, Alcohol, testosterone and ignorance and fists Packs of hunting animals roam across the town They find an easy victim and they punch him to the ground. Homophobia-the worst disease You can't love who you want to love in times like these Homophobia-the worst disease You can't love who you want to love in times like these The siren of the ambulance, the deadpan of the cops, Chalk to mark the outline where the boy first dropped Beware the holy trinity: church and state and law For every death the virus gets more deadly than before. Homophobia-the worst disease You can't love who you want to love in times like these Homophobia-the worst disease You can't love who you want to love in times like these |
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3:55 |
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1:33 |
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5:59 |
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from Chumbawamba - Showbusiness [live] (1995)
This is the last one
Organize, occupy, kick the bastards out Don't wear the gold lam In keeping with the fashion for charity, not change Here's out contribution--we've called it Slag Aid For every pop star that we slag off today Twenty-five million pounds will be given away Paul McCartney - come on down With crocodile tears to irrigate this ground Make of Somalia a fertile paradise Where everyone sings Beatles songs, buys shares in EMI A and M Axl Rose, this is your life Thank the Lord that you were born white And thank MTV for this wonderful opportunity To peddle your hypocrisy David Bowie, the price is right With a suitful of compassion and a gobful of shite Still the voices of those who doubt Coca-Cola for the peasants And Michael Jackson, game for a laugh Dancing us down the garden path To Beverly Hills nine oh one oh, you know, you know Fill the world with silver media Ladies and Gentlemen, our special guest tonight He's come all the way, put your hands together for Mr. John Lydon AKA Johnny Rotten He's got a new book out, no McLaren, no Matlock, no Dignity Well we got a surprise for him tonight 'Cause we're gonna do the business, and we take no prisoners 'Cause we got the hammer and we got the nails We got the hammer and we got the nails We got the hammer and we got the nails And the two pieces of wood Put 'em together, folks, and what have we got? Tonight, live in Leeds, in city square, we've got the two pieces of wood sitting up You see him hanging there, he's upside down, nice little twist Because we're gonna nail Mr. Lighton right up to that cross and leave him hanging there Till the vultures come down and pick his eyes off his can, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha! Ladies and gentlemen, you've been so good Thank you, on next week's show, the man upstairs And have we got a bone to pick with him! Adieu Thank you very much Thanks a lot Cheers Ta (Chatter) |
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4:07 |
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from Chumbawamba - Showbusiness [live] (1995)
Stop now
What's that sound Everybody look what's going down Stop now What's that sound Stop now What's that sound Everybody look what's going down Stop now What's that sound I am a timebomb A ticking ticking ticking timebomb I am a timebomb A ticking ticking ticking timebomb Unattended on the railway station In the litter at the dancehall Sitting pretty near the fastfood-counter In the backseat of a Vauxhall I am a timebomb A ticking ticking ticking timebomb I am a timebomb A ticking ticking ticking timebomb Stop now What's that sound Everybody look what's going down Stop now What's that sound I am a timebomb A ticking ticking ticking timebomb I am a timebomb A ticking ticking ticking timebomb Hear the ticking of your heartbeat beating Hear the breaking of their promises Hear the smashing of your expectations Hear the shattering of half-rhymes I am a timebomb A ticking ticking ticking timebomb I am a timebomb A ticking ticking ticking timebomb Stop now What's that sound Everybody look what's going down Stop now What's that sound You know Time tells you Ah-ah-ah-ah And all the timebombs They're all dancing to the same song In a world full of no ones I am a someone Timebomb Timebomb Timebomb Timebomb Stop now What's that sound Everybody look what's going down Stop now What's that sound Everybody look what's going down Stop now What's that sound Everybody look what's going down Stop now What's that sound London Bridge is falling down |
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from Chumbawamba - English Rebel Songs (1995)
A hundred years, a thousand years, we're marching on the road
The going isn't easy yet, we've got a heavy load, oh we've got a heavy load The way is blind with blood and sweat, and death sings in our ears But time is marching on our side, we will defeat the years, oh we will defeat the years We men of bone of shrunken shank, our only treasure doth, Women who carry at their breast heirs to the hungry earth, oh heirs to the hungry earth Speak with one voice, we march, we rest, and march again upon the years Sons of our sons are listening to hear the Chartist cheers Oh, to hear the Chartists cheers |
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from Chumbawamba - English Rebel Songs (1995)
The summer was over the season unkind
In harvest a snow, how uncommon to find The times were oppressive and well it be known That hunger will stronger [?] fences break down 'Twas then from theirselves the black gentry stepped out With bludgeons determined to stir up a rout The prince of the party who revelled from home Was a terrible fellow and called Irish Thom He brandished his bludgeon with dexterous skill And close to his elbow was placed Bonny (?) Will Their instantly followed a numerous train As cheerful as bold Robin Hood's merry men Sworn to remedy a capital fault And bring down the exorbitant price of the malt From Dudley to Walso (?) they trippet (?) along And Hampton was truly alarmed at the throng Women and children wherever they go Shouting out 'Oh the brave Dudley boys! Oh!' With nailers and spinners the cavalcade joined The markets to lower their flattering design Six days out of seven poor nailing boys get Little else at their meals but potatos to eat For bread hard they labor, good things never carve And swore 'twere as well to be hanged as to starve Such other feelings in every land Nothing necessities coal can withstand And riots are certain to sadden the year When six penny loaves are three pound as up here |
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from Chumbawamba - English Rebel Songs (1995)
If you want to find the general
I know where he is I know where he is I know where he is If you want to find the general I know where he is He's pinning another medal on his chest I saw him, I saw him Pinning another medal on his chest Pinning another medal on his chest If you want to find the colonel I know where he is I know where he is I know where he is If you want to find the colonel I know where he is He's sitting in comfort stuffing his bloody gut I saw him, I saw him Sitting in comfort stuffing his bloody gut If you want to find the seargent I know where he is I know where he is I know where he is If you want to find the seargent I know where he is He's drinking all the company rum I saw him, I saw him Drinking all the company rum Drinking all the company rum If you want to find the private I know where he is I know where he is I know where he is If you want to find the private I know where he is He's hanging on the old barbed wire I saw him, I saw him Hanging on the old barbed wire Hanging on the old barbed wire |
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from Chumbawamba - English Rebel Songs (1995)
Have you been to work at Idris?
No we won't go in today! For we're standing by our comrade And we'll never run away She stood bravely by the Union And she spoke up for us true And if she gets the sack No we never shall go back What e'er they do, what e'er they do Now you boys who're washing bottles It really is a shame To take the place of women Don't you think you are to blame? Come with us and join the Union Never heed what Idris say We are out to right the wrong And now we shan't be long Hip hip hooray, hip hip hooray Master Willy, master Willy You must give in once again It was wrong to sack a woman With two children to maintain Thirteen years she's faithful served you Though she was three minutes late But our little sister Anne Why she never checked the man At the gate, at the gate Oh you great king in the palace And you statesman at the top When you're drinking soda water Or imbibing ginger pop Think of some who work at Idris For very little pay And who only get nine bob For a most unpleasant job Alackaday, alackaday Now then girls all join the Union Whatever you may be In pickles, jam, or chocolates Or packing pounds of tea For we all want better wages And this is what we say 'We are out to right the wrong' 'And now we shan't be long' 'Hip hip hooray, hip hip hooray' |
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from Chumbawamba - English Rebel Songs (1995)
(Chorus)
'Poverty poverty knock,' my loom is a saying all day Poverty poverty knock, gaffer's too skinny to pay Poverty poverty knock, keeping one eye on the clock I know I can guttle when I hear my shuttle go, 'poverty poverty knock' Up every morning at five, I wonder that we keep alive Tired and yawning another cold morning It's back to the dreary old drive. (Repeat chorus) Oh dear we're going to be late Gaffer is stood at the gate We're out of pocket, our wages they'll docket We'll have to buy grub on the slate (Repeat chorus) And when our wages they bring, we're often short of a string While we are fighting with gaffer for snatching We know to his brass he will cling (Repeat chorus) Sometimes a shuttle flies out and gives some poor woman a clout There she lies bleeding but nobody's heeding Oh who's going to carry her out? (Repeat chorus) Oh dear, my poor head it sings I should have woven three strings My threads are breaking and my back is aching Oh dear, I wish I had wings Poverty poverty knock Poverty poverty knock Poverty poverty knock |
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from Chumbawamba - English Rebel Songs (1995)
Oh where are you going? said Milder to Moulder
Oh we may not tell you! said Festel to Fose We're off to the wood! said John the Red Nose We're off to the wood! said John the Red Nose And what will you do there? said Milder to Moulder Oh we may not tell you! said Festel to Fose We'll shoot the cutty wren! said John the Red Nose We'll shoot the cutty wren! said John the Red Nose Oh how will you cut him up? said Milder to Moulder Oh we may not tell you! said Festel to Fose With knives and with forks! said John the Red Nose With knives and with forks! said John the Red Nose And who´ll get the spare ribs? said Milder to Moulder Oh we may not tell you! said Festel to Fose We'll give them all to the poor! said John the Red Nose We'll give them all to the poor! said John the Red Nose |
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from Chumbawamba - English Rebel Songs (1995)
Oh where are you going? said Milder to Moulder
Oh we may not tell you! said Festel to Fose We're off to the wood! said John the Red Nose We're off to the wood! said John the Red Nose And what will you do there? said Milder to Moulder Oh we may not tell you! said Festel to Fose We'll shoot the cutty wren! said John the Red Nose We'll shoot the cutty wren! said John the Red Nose Oh how will you cut him up? said Milder to Moulder Oh we may not tell you! said Festel to Fose With knives and with forks! said John the Red Nose With knives and with forks! said John the Red Nose And who´ll get the spare ribs? said Milder to Moulder Oh we may not tell you! said Festel to Fose We'll give them all to the poor! said John the Red Nose We'll give them all to the poor! said John the Red Nose |
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from Chumbawamba - English Rebel Songs (1995)
No more chant your old rhymes about old Robin Hood
His feats I do little admire I'll sing the achievements of General Ludd Now the hero of Nottinghamshire. Brave Ludd was to measures of violence unused 'till his sufferings became so severe That at last to defend his own interest he rose And for the great fight did prepare. The guilty may fear but no vengeance he aims At the honest man's life or estate His wrath is entirely confined to wide frames And to those that would prices abate. Those engines of mischief were sentenced to die By unanimous vote of the trade And Ludd who can all opposition defy Was the grand executioner made. And when in the work he destruction employs Himself to no method confines By fire and by water he gets them destroyed For the elements aid his designs. Whether guarded by soldiers along the highway Or closely secured in a room He shivers them up by night and by day And nothing can soften their doom. Ye may censure great Ludd's disrespect for the laws Who ne'er for a moment reflects That foul imposition alone was the cause Which produced these unhappy effects. Let the haughty the humble no longer oppress Then shall Ludd sheath his conquering sword His grievances instantly meet with redress Then peace shall be quickly restored. Let the wise and the great lend their aid and advice Nor e'er their assistance withdraw Till full-fashioned work at the old-fashioned price Is established by custom and law. Then the trade when this arduous contest is o'er Shall raise in full splendor its head And colting and cutting and swearing no more Shall deprive all his workers of bread. |
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0:54 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
And the company director spins the globe
Looks into on atlas of the world A supermarket lifestyle for as all A thousand nations under company control Coca-Cola got machines in every land No-one got the teeth to bite the hand Stole their labor, their culture, and their lives To create a Coca-Cola paradise Swallowing their soft drinks and their lies Let's take the blindfold from our eyes |
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2:29 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
A visionary pause in the cycle
When she refused to buy or sell When the daughters of perfect wives Said there must be more sacrifice Needed more than symbolic change More than silent wasting away In factories and sterile marriages He was God, she was powerless With a brick for every year of life She set out for the house of lies The old boys' club under siege His lordship cowered under his seat Called for brandy and reinforcements Blasted away at every movement Close to breaking down the door Past thick blue line and stupid laws Black Friday left her bruised and stubborn One brick from winning the struggle Rapunzel hacked at the ivory tower Asquith quickly rose to the hour Appealed to patriotism, oily smiles Gave nothing, called it compromise Gauging the situation perfectly Said ladies, ladies, listen to me Nineteen fourteen, we're on the brink of war Pick up a flag, drop your cause Your targets are counter-revolutionary Take my hand in democracy Here's a piece of paper You're officially free Here's a list of instructions For you to obey And here's sharp knife To cut your own throat Small sacrifice in return for a vote Whispered word in Pankhurst's ear Visions of the first woman peer Led women down the garden path And into the arms of the enemy Jail and force-feeding, waster martyrdom Sold her songs for the national anthem Slotted the smile back neatly into place Served refreshments At the end of the race All demands reduced to a joke X marks the plague, abandon hope Butlers still pouring brandy for the rich Excuse me pass me the privilege A woman's voice, the state's idea Same vested interests, same dirty deals Currie and Williams immersed in the times Examples to keep the rest in line Currie and Williams two of a kind Examples to keep the rest in line Absolute power Absolute power Ladies, ladies, listen to me |
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2:51 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
Welcome to Never Mind The Ballots. The phone lines are now open. If you'd like
to put a question to the candidates the number to ring is 0532779463. You want jobs? I've got jobs! Hospitals? Top of my list! Tax cuts and platform shoes For every small businessman Just give me your vote Just give me your vote Schools, prisons? Of course we'll build them! Condoms for the American GIs! Nuclear reactors breed like rabbits Police oppression? You can have it, sir! Just give me your vote Put your cross in the box Hello, we've got our first caller. You're name's Martin. Hello Martin. You disagree with our statement policy. Well Martin to tell you the truth I couldn't agree with you more. It's outrageous, disgusting. But unlike my colleague on my right, we're the party who say what we do, do what we say. You can bank on us Mart! Good evening, Shirley. I'm so glad that you've rung. The matter is as dear to me as it is to you. Give me four years and I'll get right down to it. Because unlike my little balding colleague on my left, we don't make promises we can't keep. You still there, Martin? Just one more thing. Give us your vote You want houses? See me afterwards Want my autograph? See my bodyguard Pre-election budget handouts You want a war? No problem! Just give me your vote Just give me your vote |
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2:41 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
Words to describe Nicaragua of old
Cash crops and hunger and US control Coffee and sugar on company land Made to supply what the boss would demand Then one July morning in seventy-nine Nicaragua decided to leave it behind (Chorus) And the people are learning to take back their lives As the country will change, Sandinista survives Women are winning what they've never known The power to organize outside the home Starting to find what is equal and fair Ensuring that this revolution is shared Regaining lost chances, demanding much more Running the factories, fighting the war (Repeat chorus) Nobody claims that it's over and done There's too much depends on enlistment and guns And raising their children and filling their plates And chasing the Contras to Washington State The Yankee conspiracy thrown to the ground That's where the spirit of change can be found (Repeat chorus) |
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2:51 |
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2:13 |
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1:40 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
Come on baby
Let's do the revolution Six for the record And seven for the t-shirt A picture of the band and a ticket for the promised land Watching all the bouncers Systematically beating up the dancers To the rhythm of a pocket of change Here's the group with all the answers Vote for the party and keep your mouth shut! Same chains of command All the power taken out of our hands Politics pays the piper in this company land Come on baby Let's do the revolution They say we'll all be equal When they take control Vote for the party and wallow in our rock and roll "Roadie! my guitar!" |
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1:02 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
I'm the wife of the boss of the company
And I always make my husband answer to me With what he says about the blacks, I totally agree The main problem is, they're not civilized, you see Look at the way that they squabble between themselves Rioting at funerals--they'll surely go to hell If you gave them nice houses, they'd only burn them down You don't get that in a white man's town And boycotting products won't do them any good You see they need the trade to help buy food And when I visit my niece on her beautiful homestead The blacks who work for her seem really quite content So I'll agree with my husband--let things stay as they are That's always been his motto, and we've gone far |
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2:15 |
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13:23 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
Why settle for what we're shown
When there is so much more? Sometimes the Book of Law Is only half the story Means and ends: Deciding where to draw the line Loss or work in Sellafield homes Or the threat of cancers yet to come? The choice is obvious: There is no choice Only the option of looking outside This narrow definition of "What you see is all there will ever be" There comes a time - that time is now - When every second, every day When every action, every thought Will tell the world how you cast your vote They break our legs And we say "Thank you" when they offer us crutches Tired of mild reform Sick of hand-me-downs We topple all the theories to the ground: All real change Must come from below Our bosses must live in fear Of the factory-floor And when they smile And they ask for my support, I'll give them these words And a bloody nose: You don't help your enemy When you're at war There are moments in all of our lives Tiny sparks still deep inside When a new-born baby cries When you're watching clouds in a summer sky The first time you walked out on strike Love and sex and holding light Tings that can't be bought By promises and votes I hate the things I love being criminalised I hate the straight-jacket schools I grew up in I hate MPs, judges and magistrates I hate being taught to base my life on TV stars I hate being kept waiting by bureaucrats I hate wars, and all the people who love them I hate the idea of living on other people's backs I hate being filed, registered and classified I hate being watched and monitered I hate police I hate the way you talk down at me I hate being told what to do I hate you when you don't listen I hate the way you distort my sexuality with pornography I hate the pain we inflict on each other On animals, and on the Earth And I hate how love songs have become such cliches through endless, shallow repitition Each angry word Every cynical put-down Every song is carefully born From a hope of something better to come All jumbled-up Love and hate and love Each prompted by the other: For the cause of peace we have to go to war Refusing to sleep Whilst there's a world to win Yet happy to dream Dreams make the plans to change this world Not just some future heaven But today and every day In our place of work In the queue for the metrobus Organise! Here's the rest of our lives! ..A tiny spark still deep inside We can and will run the factories and mills We can and will educate ourselves We can and will work the fields We can and will police ourselves We can and will create and build Organise! Here's the rest of our lives! |
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8:23 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
I'm the Boss of the company
And I've got hunger working for me Listen and you'll begin to understand I built my profits on stolen land It's the economics of supply and demand And I make the demands around here Product sells, people die Same manipulation wrapped in lies Give a little money and play your rock and roll The biggest prizes to the biggest fools Good evening ladies and gentlemen Welcome to the show where you the audience participate On our show tonight we got lost of surprises in store for you at home In keeping with the fashion for charity, not change Here's out contribution--we've called it Slag Aid For every pop star that we slag off today A million pounds will be given away Paul McCartney - come on down With crocodile tears to irrigate this ground Make of Ethiopia a fertile paradise Where everyone sings Beatles songs and buys shares in EMI Charity, starvation, and rock and roll Let it be, eh Paulie? Freddie Mercury, this is your life Thank the Lord that you were born white And thank apartheid for this wonderful opportunity To peddle your hypocrisy in Sun City A bit of a hot potato in a moment, eh Fred, in South Africa? Well I'm sure there's a video in there somewhere David Bowie, the price is right A suitful of compassion and a gobful of shite Still the voices of those who doubt Coca-Cola for the peasants to end this drought David the world can only take so much And with you around, we're in for a really hard time Jagger and Richards, game for a laugh Dancing us down the garden path To a place where money grows on trees Where cocaine habits are financed by hunger and disease There's only one mountain in the rock and roll business Ladies and Gentlemen, and it's Mick Jagger Ask the puppet-masters who pull the strings Who makes the money when the puppets sing Ask the corporations where does the money go Ask the empty-bellied children what are we singing for And Cliff Richard, three, two, one The God who remains when the religion's gone Cliff, we've got a special surprise for you today So come up closer, step this way Cliff, you're such an example of moral worth Such a purist saint come to bless our earth That on behalf of our viewers watching on telly And on behalf of the millions with empty bellies We're donating something special that we're all going to like Cliff Richard, we're going to nail you up to a cross tonight Ladies and gentlemen, just imagine it, someone comes along, takes everything you own, your space, your house, separates you from your family and then hits you in the face if you say anything different. Well, that's what we've been doing to the third world for the past four hundred years. That's you and me. You the viewers at home, me in the studio, the pop stars, everyone. That's how we make the third world, every day, today and every day. If you want any correspondence with the program, just send your answers, letter bombs only, to BP House, Victoria Street, London, SW1 Thank you and good night Feed the world Starve the rich Goodnight I know there must be more I know there must be more Than giving just a little bit more When half of this world is so helplessly poor Starved of the real solution Charity and tradition And the cycle of hungry children Will keep on going 'round I know there must be more Will keep on going 'round I know there must be more Will keep on going 'round I know there must be more 'Till we burn the house of commons to the ground |
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5:07 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
By building up the means for war, we thus preserve the peace
Such bullshit will prepare us for invasion from the east And meanwhile, they're carving up the land The anglo-american military have taken full command It's keeping us fed we're consuming it all Fat on its culture and military control Preparing for war bit by bit Whilst we're watching its telly and eating its shit They've got it all worked out and we give our consent They've got it all worked out and we give our consent They've got it all worked out and we give our consent They've got it all worked out for Central America They've got it all worked out for Ireland By sitting back and keeping silent we give them our consent Born in the shadow of the USA Taught the fundamental bullshit every day Force fed on a diet of Great British lies Media distortions censor our minds Passive spectators of royalty Too diverted to care if we're free ICI, BP, Thorn EMI Red, white, and blue logos, British pride With a Big Mac in one hand and a Coke at our sides We've accepted their culture and swallowed their lies They've put up more fences, watched us and spied And cleverly told us they've got nothing to hide For too long we've watched them preparing for battle But the fightback is started little by little Kicking at the midst of passive defense Refusing cruise means tearing down fences At Greenham and Molesworth, fences you can see But then there's all the barriers that are built around me Political, economic, cultural, social And people who live in glass houses Shouldn't encourage others to throw stones Let the glossy shop fronts know what to expect And colonel Sanders, you're next |
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3:43 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
Children in school forced to the desk
Finger the atlas and study the text Lies and opinion presented as fact Taught to accept, and never to ask Those smiling workers in Ladybird books They're not picking coffee at all They're busy with bricks and mortar Building the company wall Flickering pictures hypnotize We spend our lives watching others' lives Too much watching to realize That this is a smokescreen And this is why people die Those smiling news presenters They're not reading cue-cards at all They're busy with brush and bucket Whitewashing the company wall Set yourself up and play it again Force the tears and entertain Sing about a world of make-believe Force this charity and leave Rich people who claim to know What's wrong with this world Can't know anything at all They're busy giving the orders For us to build their second homes Flickering pictures hypnotize Flickering pictures hypnotize And we who take the orders And refuse to question it all We're busy with spade and Bible Burying the poor Burying the poor Mass-manufactured and given away Blinkers to get you through your day So you'll never ever know to what extent you're involved Easily fooled, all your problems solved You'll say starvation has nothing to do with you You saw it in print, so it must be true And the documentary explained it all It's a simple matter of birth control And if you send a little money you can sleep tonight Or starve in sympathy on a Limmits Diet And you know that charity cures malnutrition And hunger put the sparkle back in television Hunger put the sparkle back in television Hunger put the sparkle back in television |
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3:51 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
Mr. Heseltine you drove into our town
The northern rain always drizzling down Shoppers at the window stop to look As you sign another copy of your book 'Cause you have all the power And you have all the wealth And we've got nothing but ourselves We've got nothing but ourselves We've got nothing but ourselves So we'll do away with leaders, bosses and police Reclaim our actions, rediscover our voices Salvage our integrity, reassert our dignity Power in the heart of the community Mr. Heseltine listen to me We don't want power And we don't want money We're fighting for the right to decide How the power and the wealth Be equally divided Old people in Seacroft need money for bills Single mums with kids want decent meals And we all want new coats When all's said and done They're all worn out From being walked upon There comes a time when we organize When we take control of our daily lives When we don't obey orders from authority When we disbelieve the myths of democracy Democracy Street, Britain's longest running soap opera, with the added illusion of audience participation. Our act tonight, on the left, capitalism that's right, on the right, capitalism is it, in the middle, probably the best capitalism in the world. Remember it's your choice, your five seconds worth of action that counts. I mean that most sincerely folks. Sit tight, keep quiet, 'till the next time. The next time being one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days away. If freedom is the choice between three different types of the same oppression then I'll take the one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days. Never mind the ballots, here's the rest of your life. Mr. Heseltine drove away Two more appointments in the north today Helpless and powerless We join the queue for the metro bus And Mr. Heseltine I've made up my mind I'll never give support to you and your kind (Repeat) |
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4:29 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
Full employment, slave labor, and schemes
An unemployed workforce, the capitalist's dream But lets keep Britain working--either way we must keep Britain working Conventional weapons to kill people nicely Nuclear weapons to keep the peace But weapons definitely--either way we must defend ourselves Nationalization, with one big boss No, privatization, with lots of little bosses But someone in control, of course, either way there must be someone giving orders (Chorus) A toast to democracy The prison guard of this society Sides in the voting game Disappear into the same machine The same machine A toast To US bases and nuclear weapons To stopping pickets pulling down fences To the British troops in Northern Ireland To the wonderful victory in the Falklands To the plastic bullet and the riot police To the UDM, to the TUC To isolating gays and to law and to order To richer bosses, to poorer workers (Repeat chorus) To longer hours and to less pay To the courts for those who get in our way To the beating of people who step out of line To the use of troops to break a strike To the expulsion of extremists and political witch hunts To repatriation, to benefit cuts To peaceful settlements, and to no strike agreements To authority, to power, to governments One, two, three To the annual rise in the MP's wage To vested interests, to privilege To the party who wins the next election By definition a victory to capitalism |
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4:24 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
Said the party to the ad-man
We'll conjure up a gimmick The way to lead an ass Is with a carrot and a stick Dig down for minorities Promise them concessions Ride in on their backs And then teach them all a lesson Unemployment means depression You're just victims of the recession We can count on their support If we can channel their emotions (Chorus) Populate the wasteland Between leisure and the grave Work and pray and place your vote And some day you'll be saved All these myths come tailor-made To suit the company director Myths that praise the dignity Of cheap, disposable labor Two different routes To an industrial heaven Work for boss and parliament And all will be forgiven It's the fear of being sacked That lets the boss step up the pace Because the minute you step out of line There's someone took your place (Repeat chorus) Said the MP to the media Can't we juggle this around Sprinkle sugar on the dog shit And we'll keep the figures down Never let the left hand See what's in the right No-one's any wiser And the problem's out of sight Take your democratic choice Take a scheme or starve Job clubs, restart, YTS, CPs, EAS Company profits doubled Wages chopped in half (Repeat) (Repeat chorus) Offer your life to the one true church In the name of the conservative party The labor party And the liberal alliance The promised land where banks outnumber churches And your cars shall be martyrs to the cause Capitalism in crisis But on the third day it shall rise again But on the third day it shall rise |
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2:29 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
And now, the reverand Abraham Meakley- saver of souls
Though they broke my legs, they gave me a crutch to walk Though they broke my legs, they gave me a crutch to walk Though they broke my legs, they gave me a crutch to walk Though they broke my legs, they gave me a crutch to walk "Brothers and sisters, I have seen more than sinning. I have been away these last 4 long years, but now I have returned to the fold, to be among my flock. I come as humble shepard embodied by the almighty, the power above, the power which is in me. Cos I am reborn brothers and sisters. I am living proof that government saves! Brothers and sisters, I want us to show our faith in the powers that be. For we are the true belivers. I want us to come together, come to me and let us feel the power of the cross. Todays lesson- stay in your homes exept on Thursdays, do not stray from the path, it's well sign posted, you cant miss it really and were open all day. Now theres no need to rush. Weve got plenty of pencils for everyone. Now there're collecting tins for your donation. Cheque, credit card facilities availible. "Government Saves!" stickers and badges on sale. T-shirts in small, mediem and large, all at competative prices! Put a down payment on your place in heaven and buy me another 4 years brothers and sisters. Dance dance wherever you may be I am the lord of the dance said he. And if you dont dance we have ways of making you dance. Government be with you!" Amen. |
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4:23 |
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from Chumbawamba - First 2 Lps (1995)
(White-whitewash, white-whitewash)
When you don't want to feed the world When you just want to feed your bank balance Wash your guilt away (Whitewash) Unilever Washes whiter (whitewash) Soap to clean those dirty hands And a slap for the people who work the land Unilever (whitewash, whitewash) Man-made hunger (whitewash) Soap in our eyes (white-whitewash) John West is the best (whitewash) Old soap opera (whitewash) No soap-reality (whitewash) Legal slave trade (white-whitewash) Domestos kills all known truths dead (White-whitewash, white-whitewash) Soap to wash the darkest stain Profit covers up the pain Of a slow, deliberate genocide And all the dirt you want to hide Take the black and wash it whiter (whitewash) Brooke-Bond Oxo (whitewash) Blue Band, Bird's Eye (whitewash) Lifebuoy, Sunsilk (whitewash) Persil washes whiter (whitewash) We make whitewash (Whitewash) We sell whitewash (Whitewash) Consume whitewash Consumed by whitewash (whitewash) [Simultaneously:] Unilever, Man-made hunger / Soap to wash the darkest stain Soap in our eyes, John West is the best / Profit covers up the pain Of a slow, deliberate genocide / Old soap opera No soap-reality / And all the dirt you want to hide Legal slave trade / Take the black and wash it white Domestos kills all known truths dead Whitewash Buy it Somewhere in this cycle there's me and you What are we prepared to do? Somewhere in this cycle there's me and you What are we prepared to do? Somewhere in this cycle there's me and you What are we prepared to do? Somewhere in this cycle there's me and you What are we prepared to do? Somewhere in this cycle there's me and you What are we prepared to do? Somewhere in this cycle there's me and you What are we prepared to do? Somewhere in this cycle there's me and you What are we prepared to do? Somewhere in this cycle there's me and you What are we prepared to do? (vomiting) |
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4:08 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
Goodbye to the summer
Sold down the river Unhappy ever after Well did you ever? Did you ever reach for the glued-down penny? Same old joke and it's not funny Burns are red bruises blue Out with the old cheated by the new Do you suffer from long-term memory loss? I don't remember... You sing the same old verse Stick like glue for better or worse What goes around comes around Again again again This heart pulled apart Hydra fighting head to head Burns are red bruises blue Out with the old cheated by the new Do you suffer from long-term memory loss? I don't remember... Amnesia Do you suffer from long-term memory loss? I don't remember... |
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4:04 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
A loose door-jam, a light left on
The oldest national lottery Enter Johnny-Go-Darkly Come to spoil my party Smell of faeces lingers Echo of light fingers Cold comfort blankets Steeped in creeping anger Flatfoot comes poking Compounding my misery Grinding pestle and mortar Adding insult to injury If only this, if only that, If only in my guts - See my life before my eyes Trampled underfoot Creepy crawling All the creeps go creepy crawling Same thing every night How can stealing candy from a baby Seem alright? What a wonderful world... Corvino, carrion crow Skulking with his mobile Slippery peat-bog eyes Stick-on smiley smile Small print like quicksand Not a wooden leg to stand on Sinking through my stomach The ground beneath me gone Free-fall, call Ophelia Clutching at straw Mixed with bloody feathers From scruff of neck of crow Johnny go! Johnny gone! Too much drink in your tum-tum-tum See this finger, see this thumb - See this fist and watch it come Creepy crawling... All the creeps go creepy crawling Same thing every night How can stealing candy from a baby Seem alright? What a wonderful world... |
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5:08 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
Eat, sleep and crap
For to prey on your needs Down a dark street In backwater Leeds I seen yer comin' Come in, lads! You seen the ad? Too bad, bad, bad What you get Is what you see It's a trickledown theory And it's coming to me Life's a whip-round And I've got the whip It's a sinking ship Drip, drip, drip Drip, drip, drip goes the water Take me in Throw me out Put me up Let me down Dark, satanic Run-of-the-mill Sing us a song And I'll send you the bill My nicotine grip My smokin' gun It's how I get my fun Better run, run, run Your olfactory nerves All up the spout You can't smell a rat When your nose is out Rent-to-kill By any other name Kiss an old flame Shame, shame, shame Drip, drip, drip goes the water Take me in Throw me out Put me up Let me down |
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4:02 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
Blue-rinse sugar
Wipe-clean couple Pinched last supper Counting pretty penny John Betjeman Some dead liar Quiet pink picture Under heavy manners This is Tearoom England They'll kick your face in So politely This is Tearoom England They'll kick your face in Oh so nicely I want more! No hurry So sorry Don't worry Bite-size china Tea or tartar Lipstick traces Table set to bless Sweet charity Lukewarm whisper Still-life platter Under heavy manners This is Tearoom England They'll kick your face in So politely This is Tearoom England They'll kick your face in Oh so nicely I want more! No hurry So sorry Don't worry I want more! |
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4:59 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
No virgin me
For I have sinned I sold my soul For sex and gin Go call a priest All meek and mild And tell him, "Mary Is no more a child." It's raining stones It's raining bile From the luxury Of your denial So I don't deny I don't make do I'll press alarms Place bets on truth I'm so up and down And I love what's not allowed I was lost, now I see: And now I'm growing old disgracefully Whatever happened to Mary? I'll spit on floors And do more drugs Burn every bill Get drunk on love Wear next to nothing In the pouring rain Be a bad example And do it all again I'll be uncareful I'll cause such scenes And I'll never talk Of used-to-be's Tattoo my face I won't go grey Be a dancing queen I'm growing old disgracefully I'm so up and down And I love what's not allowed I was lost, now I see: And now I'm growing old disgracefully Whatever happened to Mary? Mary, Mary Quite contrary |
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5:43 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
Pontius Pilate came to our town
Up to the dockyards to see the picket line We asked him to help but he just turned around He's the leader of the union now Leader of the union All of our questions he ignored He washed his hands and he dreamed of his reward A seat in the House of Lords One by one The ships come sailing in One by one The ships go sailing out We live for words and die for words Principles we can afford When all our Brothers turn to Lords Whose side are you on You tell the world your hands are tied History three times denied A sea of changes three miles wide Whose side are you on One by one The ships come sailing in One by one The ships go sailing out This conspiracy of shame Murder by some other name Play up and play the game Whose side are you on If any ask us why we died We tell them that our leaders lied Sold us out down the riverside Whose side are you on One by one The ships come sailing in One by one The ships go sailing out One by one The ships come sailing in One by one The ships go sailing out One by one The ships come sailing in One by one The ships go sailing out One by one The ships come sailing in One by one The ships go sailing out |
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4:08 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
outsider outsider outsider outsider outsider outsider outsider outsider I'm not alone you're not alone I'm not alone you're not alone outsider outsider outsider outsider outsider outsider outsider outsider You see me you hear me There are millions think just like me You see me you hear me There are millions think just like me I'm not alone you're not alone I'm not alone you're not alone outsider outsider outsider outsider outsider outsider outsider outsider You see me you hear me There are millions think just like me You see me you hear me There are millions think just like me You see me you hear me There are millions think just like me You see me you hear me There are millions think just like me You see me you hear me There are millions think just like me You see me you hear me There are millions think just like me You see me you hear me There are millions think just like me |
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5:07 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
Aftershave and smoke
And the same unfunny jokes They say they'll take you "Anywhere But there" Believe every half-whispered Half-remembered lie Where truth is a luxury They can't afford to buy Scapegoat Looking for a scapegoat There's always someone else for you to blame Backed into a corner He barricades his life Fastens up the shutters every night This island is big enough For every castaway But most of us are looking round For someone else to blame Scapegoat Looking for a scapegoat There's always someone else for you to blame |
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3:14 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
And every morning comes too soon
All your nights are sleepless Poison arrows To ruin your tomorrows Below suspicion Cafes full of people dressed as spies And all I know Is guilt for being different It's always raining stones There's a killer in the home In a small town Everybody looks the same There are unwritten rules Unspoken words Should I pack my fear and go? I have to leave somehow Before they run me out of town I have to leave somehow |
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4:38 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
There are those
Spend the night Under bridges Over by the river Down in the park Through the winter But there's a house That i know Safe and warm And no-one ever goes there Down where the priests Bless the wine She's been born into the wrong time She keeps nonsense on her mind She's a poet, she's a builder She's as bored as bored can be She's a have-not, she's a know-all She knows just how to say yes She's skating frozen chaos Till the no good gods are dead But sometimes in the dead of night Woken by the city lights She wonders how she keeps alive... This is the girl who Lost the house which Paid to the man who Put up the rent and Threw out the girl to Feather his own sweet home She's a clueless social climber Likes the wrong side of the bed She's a pick-me-up and she's a drink-to-me In the company of friends She's tried every variation She's so common, she's so cold She's homesick for a future Can't stomach what she's told On every street in every town All her days are up and down At home among the lost-and-founds... This is the girl who Lost the house which Paid to the man who Put up the rent and Threw out the girl to Feather his own sweet home Here's the good samaritan Looks away and carries on |
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5:13 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
This is the Goodship Lifestyle
All my friends jumped ship I elect me the captain This is the loneliest voyage I've ever been on Up in the crow's nest - Over there! I see land! First mate? There is no First Mate... This is the Goodship Lifestyle Sail away from the world So steer a course A course for nowhere And drop the anchor My little Empire I'm going nowhere I'm going nowhere I'm going nowhere I'm going nowhere This is the Goodship Lifestyle I fly my very own flag TV dinners for one At the captain's table Repel all boarders! Draw the curtains tighter! Where's the crew? There is no crew... This is the Goodship Lifestyle So steer a course A course for nowhere And drop the anchor My little Empire I'm going nowhere I'm going nowhere I'm going nowhere I'm going nowhere |
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3:49 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
Spoke of a time long ago
Laughed ourselves daft on that Saturday Singing here we go I'm a taxi driver I'm a postal worker I'm an office cleaner I'm a striking docker I'm a ballet dancer I'm a Zapatista I'm a pop singer I'm a winner I'm a winner baby I'm a winner baby Ol?ol?ol?ol?Top of the world I'm on top of the world Ol?ol?ol?ol?Top of the world I'm on top of the world I'm a brick layer I'm an ex-miner I'm a single mother I'm a bus driver I'm a political prisoner I'm a print worker I'm a footballer I'm a winner Words on a postcard from far away Spoke of a time long ago Laughed ourselves daft on that Saturday Singing here we go |
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4:38 |
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from Chumbawamba - Tubthumper (1997)
We'll be singing
when we're winning We'll be singing I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down Pissing the night away Pissing the night away He drinks a whiskey drink He drinks a vodka drink He drinks a lager drink He drinks a cider drink He sings the songs that remind him of the good times He sings the songs that remind him of the better times Oh Danny Boy Danny Boy Danny Boy I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down Pissing the night away Pissing the night away He drinks a whiskey drink He drinks a vodka drink He drinks a lager drink He drinks a cider drink He sings the songs that remind him of the good times He sings the songs that remind him of the better times Don't cry for me next door neighbor I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down |
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1:16 |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
It's a happy sound
And it's, uh, not doing anybody any harm But I think, I mean, it's a nice sound (repeat) |
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4:15 |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
Hey diddle diddle, here's a brand new riddle
What's shallow and cheap with a hole in the middle Five fingers holding four wise angels Little heads float by on clouds of goodness They're playing voodoo with their Kylie dolls Sing it right or don't sing it all |
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5:36 |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
I caught you with your head down the toilet as you were gulping up dirty words, then later dressed in suit and tie, whilst playing to the laughing crowds, you were gargling, spitting, fingers down your throat, making yourself so sick. Vomiting the words that you'd sucked and slurped all over the cops at the back!
Big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again Big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again Flucky now, flucky now, flucky now, oh my, it's a good job Fusion cannot spell. 'Cause if I could you know I'd get a lot of flack off the record company, always on my back. Well I thank God for watching what I'm doing. Whoops. Fusion watch what you're saying. Remember what happened before when you tried to thank God, um, Christ, um, Him--you had to scrap your lyrics and throw them in the bin. I couldn't win, it must've been a thing. Anyway I've been asked here not to give lip, but to talk about a topic which we call censorship. Musicians have no right to say what they want to. MC Fusion want to say some of the people say that blunt--nobody has the right to tell you want to do. 'Cause if you do it to them, it may be [?] on you. Whoever bought this record try and figure out what the flucking hell is Fusion talking about, but it makes sense to the A G I T, cause this is what happened when they try to censor me. Ha. Finally, Fusion, I mean we, got freedom of speech. Censorship is a load of bollocks, and that's wh at agitation propaganda and anything you can do, I can do better. 'To' is a preposition 'Come' is a verb 'To come' is a verb intransitive To come, to come Did you come? Did you come good? Good! Did you come? Did you come good? Good! Don't come in me, don't come in me Don't come in me, don't come in me It takes technique to thrill me! Did you come? Did you come good? Good! Did you come? Did you come good? Good! Did you come, come, come, come, come good? Big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again Big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again (Good Thief routine) Stepford husbands, Stepford wives With longer scissors, sharper knives So sugar-sweet, they spend their time as censors, working overtime This good-good culture Bullshit motherfucker bullshit Welcome Christ, judges, lone ranger Bullshit motherfucker bullshit Padres, pastors, popes, priests Bullshit motherfucker bullshit Critics, comics, you, me Bullshit motherfucker bullshit Big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again Big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again |
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4:36 |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
Open your eyes, time to wake up
Enough is enough is enough is enough Give the fascist man a gunshot Trying and trying to get this damn thing done. It can't done. Come shoot the fascist with a gun. 'Cause it's stopping us from unity. We cannot see reality, just vanity, insanity, Fusion cannot stand it see. No man, fascist man, will ever get me outta the land so understand Fusion plan to stop them with a bang. We sang and sang to make the peple all unite. Not fight, but fight because the leaders don't think right. You burnt us in the past you know it won't happen again. So black and white take a stand and all try to defend. All of the people and the children who are living in the past, just blast, and blast, don't make the fascist man last. Open your eyes, time to wake up Enough is enough is enough is enough Give the fascist man a gunshot On and on and on you know the feeling's so strong, so long, it's wrong, I'm telling you it's wrong. Destruction, confusion, and blaming it on the color, I wonder, in horror, 'cause the people start to follow. All the leaders and the rulers who are putting up the fence, it's dense, immense, and you say you're talking sense. Bull, bull, I want to say it full, but people on the radio you know will make a pull. So I try to tone it down to make the whole world know that the language of my violence will proceed in my show. Flow, flow, to make the fascist man know that unity is here and unity will grow. Open your eyes, time to wake up Enough is enough is enough is enough Give the fascist man a gunshot Open your eyes, time to wake up Enough is enough is enough is enough |
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2:26 |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
Is she really going out with him?
Not any more! Georgina's cooking supper for her husband All her friends are coming 'round to see the show Because the thief she calls a husband won't be hungry When he sees what's on the end of his fork Georgina isn't asking any more And her lover isn't asking any more And the cook isn't asking any more Since the thief met a bullet on the way to the floor Georgina's got a timebomb in her stomach She knows that any minute now it's going to blow With all the pain and the silence that she feeds on With all the hurt that the bruises can't show Georgina isn't asking any more And her lover isn't asking any more And the cook isn't asking any more Since the thief met a bullet on the way to the floor Georgina's got an appetite for vengeance And she sings all the songs from 'Oliver' But she won't be wanting seconds any more As she tightens up her grip on her trigger finger Georgina isn't asking any more And her lover isn't asking any more And the cook isn't asking any more Since the thief met a bullet on the way to the floor Georgina isn't asking any more And her lover isn't asking any more And the cook isn't asking any more Since the thief met a bullet on the way to the floor |
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4:01 |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
Albert!
What? Bobby! What? For god's sake burn it down Nothing ever burns down by itself Every fire needs a little bit of help Nothing ever burns down by itself Every fire needs a little bit of Give the anarchist a cigarette 'Cause that's as close as he's ever going to get Bobby just hasn't earned it yet The times are changing but he just forgets He's going to choke on his harmonica Albert Nothing ever burns down by itself Every fire needs a little bit of help Nothing ever burns down by itself Every fire needs a little bit of Give the anarchist a cigarette A candy cig for the spoilt brat We'll get Albert to write you a check And he'll be burning up the air in his personal jet You know I hate every pop star that I ever met Nothing ever burns down by itself Every fire needs a little bit of help Nothing ever burns down by itself Every fire needs a little bit of Give the anarchist a cigarette Burn baby burn, burn baby burn (Repeat) Nothing ever burns down by itself Every fire needs a little bit of help (Repeat) |
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2:04 |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
If you want to find the general
I know where he is I know where he is I know where he is If you want to find the general I know where he is He's pinning another medal on his chest I saw him, I saw him Pinning another medal on his chest Pinning another medal on his chest If you want to find the colonel I know where he is I know where he is I know where he is If you want to find the colonel I know where he is He's sitting in comfort stuffing his bloody gut I saw him, I saw him Sitting in comfort stuffing his bloody gut If you want to find the seargent I know where he is I know where he is I know where he is If you want to find the seargent I know where he is He's drinking all the company rum I saw him, I saw him Drinking all the company rum Drinking all the company rum If you want to find the private I know where he is I know where he is I know where he is If you want to find the private I know where he is He's hanging on the old barbed wire I saw him, I saw him Hanging on the old barbed wire Hanging on the old barbed wire |
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5:00 |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
Look, no strings--just paper, glue, and card
Hark, the angels sing 'Paste the Lord' That was the Armley tabernacle choir. Next we'll be hearing the true story of an American housewife who claims to have taken mid-air photographs of Jesus Christ in the skies of Indiana. High above the streets and houses Misses Meta Battle, with one hand on the Valium and one hand on the bottle Somewhere over Indiana, eight miles high Meta Battle sees the good Lord wandering 'cross the sky (Chorus) Have your fun whilst your alive You won't get nothing when you die Have a good time all the time because you won't get nothing when you die Look, no strings--just paper, glue, and card Hark, the angels sing 'Paste the Lord' Gobsmacked, William Shatnered Meta does a double take Come on baby, do the camera shake Half expecting from the aisle a certain Mister Beadle Watching you, watching us, watching Misses Meta Battle (Repeat chorus) Look, no strings--just paper, glue, and card Hark, the angels sing 'Paste the Lord' Meta Battle shot her Lord And watched him tumble down And now there's people out with Polaroids all around town And who knows, that Jesus on the church near your house may well be the original Kiss it as you pass (Repeat chorus) Look, no strings--just paper, glue, and card Hark, the angels sing 'Paste the Lord' (Repeat) Susej em kcuf ho (Repeat) |
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4:08 |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
Act one, the smell of green leather, French polish, quite pristine, not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle, not a crease, the silverware all clean. Exquisite chaussures grace marble floors, be upstanding, for men of yore. But wait, who's this, sticky under the collar in Elsinore? Enter silent comedy geek with dynamite down his pants. Nervous, shuffling on his feet, leading a merry song and dance. A back seat driver of good moral fibre, holding up the light. He's made his own bed, now he's got to lie in it. Ha ha! Serves him right.
Act two, a new New England, watch the good seed grow. But who is this miss out-of-wedlock, with children of her own? Enter witch finder general, of melancholy humor, and irascible power, all dressed in goody-goody two shoes, pulling the heads of flowers. 'Let this be,' said he, 'a lesson, your dirty linen is your own reflection.' Said I, 'Somehow it just doesn't wash, away with your petty inquisition. In the vernacular, most unkind sir, f**k with me and you will see the flesh and blood and bone, the black eye of thine enemy.' Dance, dance. Act three, 'I am the lord of the dance,' said he. John the Baptist, dripping wet, playing sir politick-would-be. Backslapping, backsliding, back to basic instincs, backfiring. By your own choice you're on a hiding to nothing, I ask you which is more comforting? The thought that I am bad seed, gone to seed, turned sour by TV sex and violence. Or even worse, am I unleashed by my own volition to do you ill? 'Condemn a little more, understand a little less.' Oh sad sir, thou jest! Ha ha! I am Prometheus, prepare thee to meet thy nemesis. |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
(Chorus)
Can't hear you 'cause your mouth's full of shit Can't hear you 'cause your mouth's full of shit Do something about it (Repeat chorus) Well I'm really back to basics right beside a bar Choke the double trouble big one to the joker with the card Good call What's the crack, what's the damage done today From the commons to the common a banana skin away Knock it back knock it out Chuck a nightmare dart Quiet Compere on the mic turns turning to the court Putting beef vol-au-vents across the Union Jack Bolinger and Bitter says the colonies are back (Repeat chorus) You think you're god's gift You're a liar I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire (Repeat) (Repeat chorus) Up your ronson Take a tab With a flash of Zippo light Catch the hip parade passing to the Polaroids right Check the manic little rebel with a bottle in his hand A rhyming manifesto and a butty from his mam Local lad made bad with cowboy charm Claims he doesn't really mean every screw-'em-all barb Pass the mic Karaoke with the yesteryear stars Time to weep into your beer 'til the fireworks start (Repeat Chorus) You think you're god's gift You're a liar I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire (Repeat) (Repeat chorus) |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
I dreamt the cliffs and ride the waves
And no one comes to save me My arms are sprawled against the tide Nothing knocks me over Nothing knocks me over Nothing knocks me over From the fire into the frying pan I jump because I can I choose to gamble with my life Twice the risk, four times the prize Nothing knocks me over Nothing knocks me over Nothing knocks me over |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
I never could stand to be pushed
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
Oscar Wilde, Oscar Wilde, can you tell me where you've been?
I've been down to London town to pay a visit to the Queen. Oscar Wilde, Oscar Wilde, can you tell me what you saw? I saw the Queen and all her coutiers cooking up new laws; I saw the corridors of power, with closets wall-to-wall; And I saw the truth, the truth, behind the Emperor's new Clause! So you burn the books, and close your eyese to every other possibility-- you got to keep your job for collaborating with the enemy. You keep throwing stones though your house is made of glass; you've helped to make McCarthyism popular, at last. Blessed are the moralists, the Judges, the patriarchs. Blessed are the gutter-press, the AIDS-joke comedians. Praise to the guilt-mongerers, the fear-builders, the sin-fetishists. Glory, glory, halleluia, His truth is marching on One in ten driven underground, divisions getting wider. Hide your inclination behind a straight face and a Bible. Third Reich morality, and if the cap doesn't fit, there's a designer label for hypocrites. Here comes the officer, knocking on your door. He's got a care order in the pocket of his uniform. Where's Radclyffe Hall? Now is the time to tear up clause 29! Here comes the preacher checking your soul. Too late sir, I'd rather fall. We'll eat your bread and we'll drink your wine, and still tear up clause 29! Here comes the judge, hammer in hand, but we've all gone deaf to bigots' commands. Our justice will cross the thin blue line and tear up clause 29! Here comes a brick, heading your way. A concrete opinion says all I want to say. Save your own soul, mine will be fine, once we've shredded clause 29. |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
I'm always waiting
I'm sick of waiting For the day my luck will change I've spent enough time In queues and bread lines In hope of better days These thieves and scroungers And lazy bastards If I move they'll steal my place Steal like this State does And who's to blame us When none of us can pay? Will heaven's angels Pull out the rent books And ask me how I'll pay? Behind their big desks Misspell my kids' names And file my life away? |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
This girl, she didn't turn out quite the way she was supposed to do
This girl, she got bored of all the things they brought her up to say She never meant them anyway This girl, she got caught out on the multi-storey car park Throwing goodbye notes wrapped up in bricks When they put her in the car she said, 'Jesus made me do it' But all the priests in all the world couldn't save this girl This girl, content with all the bloody noses, scabby knees You get from fighting wars like these, Running past the tidy houses pulling faces This material world couldn't tempt this girl (Chorus) Now she entertains the world and all its mates But she doesn't fit in And everybody thinks this girl is great But she's lacing all the party drinks with venom from a poison pen This girl, she made a habit of habitually lying Does everybody's head in She knows what happens when the next stop that you see It's not the one that everyone expected it to be This girl, happy families 'round the supermarket check-out She loves to be the odd one out The party girl who stayed upstairs Playing musical chairs La-la, la-la-la She doesn't care this girl. (Repeat chorus) This girl, she didn't turn out quite the way she was supposed to do |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
(Chorus 1)
Stop now, what's that sound? Everybody look what's going down Stop now, what's that sound? Wow! (Chorus 2) I am a timebomb A ticking ticking ticking timebomb I am a timebomb A ticking ticking ticking timebomb Unattended at the railway station In the litter at the dancehall Sitting pretty near the fast-food counter In a backseat of a Vauxhall Woah (Repeat chorus 2) (Repeat chorus 1) (Repeat chorus 2) Unattended at the railway station They're all dancing to the same song Hear the smashing of your expectations Hear the shattering of half-rhymes (Repeat chorus 2) (Repeat chorus 1) Gotta stop! Yeah, stop now, what's that sound, everybody look what's going down Stop now, what's that sound, everybody look what's going down (Repeat) Stop (Repeat chorus 1) And all the timebombs They're all dancing to the same song In a world full of no-ones I am someone (Repeat chorus 2) (Repeat chorus 1) (Repeat chorus 1) London bridge is falling down Thank you Mr. Jimmy Echo, ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together Lovely |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
Ugh! Your ugly, your ugly, your ugly houses look so Ugh!
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
Just take a ticket
It takes you nowhere They saw us coming It's them and us here Just keep your voice down And light another I am a patient girl I wait, I wait, I wait It's not your money Don't call me stupid Not big, not clever Mean can mean awkward It's Wigan Pier here I'm not for jumping See candid camera Sees next to nothing (Chorus) You keep me waiting I keep on shouting You keep me waiting I keep on shouting You keep me waiting I keep on shouting You keep me waiting My letterbox knows Bangers and bad news Good morning campers Sees queues and queues and queues They spell my name wrong It's not for art's sake And every truth told Black mark on black mark You love to chew on This bread and butter You crunch your numbers And push your papers Pile-up on pile-up Malicious bad turns I'll light another Slow fuses, slow burn (Repeat chorus) |
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from Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)
Driving on the bypass to Damascus
I saw a preacher trying to hitch a ride With a pair of broken wings And a suitcase full of sins He gathered up his dreams and jumped inside Pulling Malatesta from his suitcase He lifted up his voice and began to sing 'My songs of desperation lead to action... And this is where the serious fun begins.' We don't go to God's house anymore Saw the light and walked right out the door We don't go to God's house It's more fun in the dog house We don't go to God's house anymore Well driving on, I tasted sweet salvation As we sung away the pulpit and the past The preacherman and me We sang such harmonies The highway of my life went by so fast The preacher, he got off at the crossroads He said, 'This is where I end, and you begin' He left behind the wings and the Malatesta And the memory of the songs we both did sing We don't go to God's house anymore Saw the light and walked right out the door We don't go to God's house It's more fun in the doghouse We don't go to God's house anymore |
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from Allez! Ola! Ole! : Music Of The Worldcup [omnibus] (1998)
Words on a postcard from far away
Spoke of a time long ago Laughed myself daft on that Saturday Singing “Here we go” I'm a taxi driver I'm a postal worker I'm an office cleaner I'm a striking docker I'm a ballet dancer I'm a Zapatista I'm a pop singer I'm a winner I'm a winner, baby I'm a winner, baby Ole, ole, ole, ole Top of the world I'm on top of the world Ole, ole, ole, ole Top of the world I'm on top of the world I'm a brick layer I'm an ex-miner I'm a single mother I'm a bus driver I’m a political prisoner I'm a print worker I’m a footballer I'm a winner I'm a winner, baby I'm a winner, baby Ole, ole, ole, ole Top of the world I'm on top of the world Ole, ole, ole, ole Top of the world I'm on top of the world Words on a postcard from far way Spoke of a time long ago Laughed ourselves daft on that Saturday Singing "Here we go" Ole, ole, ole, ole Top of the world I'm on top of the world Ole, ole, ole, ole Top of the world I'm on top of the world Ole, ole, ole, ole Top of the world I'm on top of the world Ole, ole, ole, ole Top of the world I'm on top of the world Ole, ole, ole, ole Top of the world (I’m up, I’m down) I'm on top of the world (I love what’s not allowed) Ole, ole, ole, ole Top of the world (I’m up, I’m down) I'm on top of the world (I love what’s not allowed) Ole, ole, ole, ole Top of the world (I’m up, I’m down) I'm on top of the world (I love what’s not allowed) Ole, ole, ole, ole |
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from Chumbawamba - Slap (1998)
Big tall courthouse, a clock upon the wall
A hammer on the table and a copper on the door A judge in front and a jury at the side A judge in front and a jury at the side A judge in front and a jury at the side And a Bible on the stand to say I won't tell lies Well it's one o'clock, two o'clock, any old o'clock Between the rock and roll devil and the fear of god Big brotherly love runs shallow as skin In the deep south of America Can the lady take the stand now? Blah, blah, blah And how comes a black woman drives her own car? And what gives you the constitutional right And what gives you the constitutional right And what gives you the constitutional right To drive a car through a junction on a red stop light? Well it's one o'clock, two o'clock, any old o'clock Between the rock and roll devil and the fear of god Big brotherly love runs shallow as skin In the deep south of Yorkshire Well of course I drove the car through a red stop light But well, I thought that law was just for whites I saw the white folks drive through on green I say, I saw the white folks drive through on green I say, I saw the white folks drive through on green So when the red light flashed, I thought this must be for me Well it's one o'clock, two o'clock, any old o'clock Just a fear of the people with a fear of god Lancashire white girl tries to sing the blues Well, I woke up this morning like I usually do |
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from Chumbawamba - Slap (1998)
Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree
How bent your branches seem to be Nineteen twenty-one and all's well Another fifteen years and we'll be laughing in hell One bullet straight through the heart Rubens caught a ricochet, Durer's lady cried today Cracked old masters up against the wall Blue-faced Wendy Woolworth--she's seen it all Housepainter, housepainter Hanging your swastika wallpaper Rows of pretty cabbageheads to gobble up your words Laughing along to your blah, blah, blah |
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from Chumbawamba - Slap (1998)
One, two, three, four
Slap Fleet Street fell in love But the girl proved hard to get Took a seat at the old boy's club But wouldn't share the bed Cuppas for the troops Bubbly-gum and wire Trojan horses, Black & Tans They're running for their lives Royals came to call Mister Paisley save her soul Heavens here's the naughty girl Wouldn't say her prayers Bloody Monday morning The rat who did the talking Here's Ginger to the rescue Take that! And that! Take that! And that! |
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from Chumbawamba - Slap (1998)
OK, this one's called "Whitewash"
When was the very first time you saw Chumbawamba? In my dreams! Ha! Working in a forge, black lungs, burnt skin Callouses, arched back, hammering, hammering Stalin watching over us pigeon shit head We'd spit on the floor at this red bastard god That's how grateful we are (Repeat) Bronze statue, pink marble, built to last We brought him to his knees in a single night And the boots that remained I attacked, I attacked Hammering, hammering, the past is past That's how grateful we are (Repeat) Scrub away, scrub away And the noise rang out, metal on metal Pigeons flit, dust settled Out from the shadows we took to the streets David chopping at the giant's feet That's how grateful we are (Repeat) OK, we're gonna take it right, right, right, right down, way down What we need is a break from the old routine (Repeat) Can I kick it? Yes you can! (Repeat) There ain't no justice, just us (Repeat) OK, we've been doing this one quite a few nights running, but I'd like to take that one. Is that a yes? Which one, then? Goodbye girl, goodbye girl... Martin McLaren, Archer, Anais Nin... Well, basically, Chumbawamba are the sort of metals of the pop world The old groups, they're not concerned with what there is to be learned They sell 501s and they think it's funny, turning rebellion into money Can I kick it? This songs become a bit irrelevant now, innit, we may as well just go off now. Couple of yous could just get up and we'll just fuck off. I'm into that man, you know, 'cause I've got a hot chocolate waiting for me back there. There's, uh, quite a bit of anti-Criminal Justice Bill sentiment down in front here. Excellent! What we need is a break from the old routine (Repeat) You still want to come? Too late, too late We're cut and we're fallen like harvested wheat But we lived on our feet, at least, at last And we will live on our feet, at least, at last That's how grateful we are (Repeat) You still want to come? Too late, too late We're cut and we're fallen like harvested wheat But we lived on our feet, at least, at last We will live on our feet, at least, at last That's how grateful we are That's how grateful Ta |
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from Chumbawamba - Slap (1998)
Heads bowed, eyes down, here comes the enemy
To hail the people's victory! Which people? What victory? It's the People's Army that murdered the people They've come to glue the shattered, battered statues in the square Heads bowed, eyes down, here comes the enemy With a haircut and a trigger-finger, that could be me! Tanks tearing a hole in the silence I've got armor-piercing rockets in my pocket--watch out! (Chatter) You must've seen it, the boy in the white shirt You want a fight? Yeah, you and whose army? The people is bigger than the People's Army My dad is bigger than your dad, and one day, one day Raw and angry in front of the enemy So it's turn back or kill. Boy versus tank You want a fight? Yeah, you and whose army? Here soldier, have a watermelon--this'll cool you down! |
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from Chumbawamba - Slap (1998)
(Chorus)
You sometimes wonder and you sometimes wonder Ten thousand Deutschmarks to hand me over Oh you sometimes wonder and you sometimes wonder You can make a living sometimes wondering Don't think these bones can be sold when I'm long gone Don't think that I should want to sell my soul for the Sundays Don't wait for me to say I'm sorry--I won't Who wants to be a green MP? I don't (Repeat chorus) Wise men say only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you Don't think I walked into banks to stand in the queue Don't think I pressed up to the plexi-glass just to talk to you Don't wait for me to say I'm sorry - I won't Who wants to be a green MP? - I don't (Repeat chorus) |
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from Chumbawamba - Swingin With Raymond (1998)
Sitting on the shelf when someone called my number
With a template in one hand, scissors in the other 'What lump of clay is this?' Said the king maker to me Dull, gray matter, perfect for his alchemy The future flesh and blood on the bones of the big lie A no-wit who's face fits and never wonders why I met my Mephistophelles, the papers sealed in blood Like I got a transfer deal the lad done good (Chorus) Good King Danbert at the helm His face on every coin of the realm And every time we sing, it's three cheers for the king Hey, hey, hey Sirhan, Sirhan, where have you gone? All mixed up We take a fool for a king All mixed up Mistake a fool for a king (Repeat) The washing powder advert That everybody hates But all the research shows that's how brand names are made Squeaky clean, no skeletons In other words I've never lived Makes me highly-qualified To decide what gives Rough-shod, riding rail-road Over all the awkward questions Queen Victoria of Grantham To give me her blessing It's written all over me I'm touched by the hand I am the something very rotten In the state of little England (Repeat chorus) All mixed up (Repeat) |
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from Chumbawamba - Swingin With Raymond (1998)
One year later
This queue never moved I've got well dressed slugs Crawling over my shoes And all these bouncers Pushing me around Well I'll huff and I'll puff I'll blow your house down In these hard times No money for the arts No money for a bonus And my car won't start The taxman cometh And the landlord too Now something better chance I've got things to do Scratched record carries on forever Last waltz carries on forever Prize fighter carries on forever Too much bowing To the sacred cow Hey! you! outside! now! Two years later And the tap still drips This pain in my back Means I still can't sleep They're ripping up the longside For plastic seats We're ripping off the gas Just to make ends meet Half the population Living off crime I'm talking 'bout the fuckers On question time Pop fops on horse Haven't got a clue Now something better change I've got things to do Scratched record carries on forever Last waltz carries on forever Prize fighter carries on forever Too much bowing To the sacred cow Hey! you! outside! now! Three years later And I'm still in this queue Now somethnig better change I've got things to do Too much bowing To the sacred cow Hey! you! outside! now! |
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from Chumbawamba - Swingin With Raymond (1998)
Don't tell me lies
I want it all (Repeat) I don't need fingerprints So button up your coat Before you catch your death of cold Throw away your books They're building windmills Three miles up Out on the moors There's an empire waiting (Chorus) Look at me now I can take on the world and win Look at me now Towny go home Whispers in the Tower of Babel But I have all I need I have shoes with sharpened soles And every simple joy We make it all so complicated When all you need to know Is putting the meat Around your bones (Repeat chorus) Just look at me now Both feet on the ground My sights are fixed on the horizon (Repeat) |
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from Chumbawamba - Swingin With Raymond (1998)
Here's the devil in disguise
Hits me right between the eyes Like a thief out of the night Someone taught him how to fight (Chorus) Love can knock you over Love can knock you over Tongue-tied and crucified Cross my heart and hope to die But I'll get up again And I'll fall down again And I'll get fooled again (Repeat chorus) Beaten by the sucker punch And I don't care about getting' up You can count me out this time And I won't mind So used to useless metaphors Lost the battle, won the war Words to fight another day Pass away (Repeat chorus) |
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from Chumbawamba - Swingin With Raymond (1998)
These red azaleas never grew so tall
This well of loneliness Could rise and drown us all There is no right or wrong Things fall as they do Pulled by the sun and the moon Forever comes too soon People come People go But still I'll never let go Ideas come Ideas go Still I'll never let go Still I'll never let go I've fallen for the girl Been mad about the boy When you've kissed an angel There's just no choice There is no right or wrong Things fall as they do Pulled by the sun and the moon Forever comes too soon People come People go But still I'll never let go Ideas come Ideas go Still I'll never let go Still I'll never let go Lying there with the squares on the kitchen floor Watch the clock's pointing fingers It's seen it all before There is no right or wrong Things fall as they do Pulled by the sun and the moon Forever comes too soon People come People go But still I'll never let go Ideas come Ideas go Still I'll never let go Still I'll never let go Still I'll never let go Still I'll never let go Still I'll never let go (Still I'll never let go) |
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from Chumbawamba - Swingin With Raymond (1998)
(Chorus)
Wondering Have I given up dreaming? Come down from the ceiling I won't do that again Thinking My misspent history Mistakes to teach me I won't do that again Dreams I kept as a child Kept me quiet and hypnotized Cooked away my valentines Served myself up every night Couldn't see me for the trees And all that hallmark poetry I'm not the girl I used to be I'm not the girl I used to be (Repeat chorus) Trying to break the family ties Chocolate hearts and tacky lies Heard a thousand crappy lines And I believed them every time So I beg to disagree Love's not taking all of me I'm not the girl I used to be I'm not the girl I used to be (Repeat chorus) I'm not the girl I used to be (Repeat) |
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from Chumbawamba - Swingin With Raymond (1998)
Shiny button-down clown suit
Oxymoron (Repeat) F**ked up the simplest of chores Mister constant consternation And his declaration of war Makes a fist out of demands With his plasticene hands Matey makes a big, big deal And matey makes a big big meal Boasts of a conscience so big It means his uniform won't fit Cooking books and punching drunks Working for the real crooks The good cop Oxymoron (Repeat) I don't believe in the good cop I don't believe in the good cop I don't believe At the ticket inspector's party Prison guards eye store detectives All good fighters of crime Same repeated chat-up line Are you well tooled up Come and have a go if you think You're hard enough Watch them tighten their straps Yes sir I switched on the taps Heads to crack, eyes to black Bureaucrats will cover your tracks Here's how your dictatorships begin Fools obey without thinking The good cop Oxymoron (Repeat) I don't believe in the good cop I don't believe in the good cop I don't believe (Repeat) |
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from Chumbawamba - Swingin With Raymond (1998)
Part punk, part God almighty
Part fuck you, part Mister X-ray Eyes I didn't choose to be shouting for a living It happened Something snapped and I don't know why Too many slaps? Too many priests? Fumbled sex in parks? Or just a part of the me, me, me generation The Thatcher youth Coming home to roost If the old school cap fits, wear it But I'll take my cake and share it Burning down a bonfire made of teachers Pay your VAT bills on the cinders Just you and little Molly Flinders Doing the twist at all the dances Don't look to me for answers (Let's twist again) Hear them sing (Let's twist again) See them sing (Let's twist again) (Let's twist again) Hear them sing (Let's twist again) See them sing (Let's twist again) Bring on the dancing girls Part sussed, part amateur Part love you, part mister bleeding heart I singalonga, jump uppa-downa Watch this space I've got lungs full of this stuff Two sides together in the commons bar Just who the fuck do they think they are I am not a pop star I'm a part of the class war Every revolutionary Is motivated by love I see the newsreels, two hundred bodies In a shallow grave in Timor What am I supposed to do? Forget it? Pretend it never happened? Whilst politicians circle-jerk 'round Legal jargon totem poles (Let's twist again) Hear them sing (Let's twist again) See them sing (Let's twist again) (Let's twist again) Hear them sing (Let's twist again) See them sing (Let's twist again) Bring on the dancing girls You tell me Where does entertainment end And responsibility begin Oh Salome waits Oh Salome waits Oh Salome waits She says 'bring me all the heads of all the heads of state (Repeat) (Let's twist again) Hear them sing (Let's twist again) See them sing (Let's twist again) (Let's twist again) Hear them sing (Let's twist again) See them sing (Let's twist again) Bring on the dancing girls |
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from Chumbawamba - Swingin With Raymond (1998)
I'm Judas Judy, panicking, got everything and nothing
Happy birthday mister president I'm here to call your bluff From the top of the world I'm gonna jump, jump, jump I'm so perfectly imperfect and I did it for your love I'm as small as Thumbelina, sugar fairy on the cake Because the thinnest of excuses leave the bitterest taste Brittle-boned, Barbie-cued, take a piece of my heart When you know you haven't got it, does it make you feel good This dress is killing me Frockanoia (Repeat) I won and then I lost and then I won and then I lost And now I know how much a pound of flesh can cost And the question isn't if, but a definite when Do I throw my achy heart into the gutter again The party isn't over 'til the thin lady sings Critics dressed as waiters waiting in the wings There they'll gather like vultures to pick at the bones I won and then I lost and I got nothing at all This dress is killing me Frockanoia (Repeat) |
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from Chumbawamba - Swingin With Raymond (1998)
This girl, she didn't turn out quite the way she was supposed to do
This girl, she got bored of all the things they brought her up to say She never meant them anyway This girl, she got caught out on the multi-storey car park Throwing goodbye notes wrapped up in bricks When they put her in the car she said, 'Jesus made me do it' But all the priests in all the world couldn't save this girl This girl, content with all the bloody noses, scabby knees You get from fighting wars like these, Running past the tidy houses pulling faces This material world couldn't tempt this girl (Chorus) Now she entertains the world and all its mates But she doesn't fit in And everybody thinks this girl is great But she's lacing all the party drinks with venom from a poison pen This girl, she made a habit of habitually lying Does everybody's head in She knows what happens when the next stop that you see It's not the one that everyone expected it to be This girl, happy families 'round the supermarket check-out She loves to be the odd one out The party girl who stayed upstairs Playing musical chairs La-la, la-la-la She doesn't care this girl. (Repeat chorus) This girl, she didn't turn out quite the way she was supposed to do |
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from Chumbawamba - Swingin With Raymond (1998)
Ugh! Your ugly, your ugly, your ugly houses look so Ugh!
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| from Chumbawamba - Swingin With Raymond (1998) | |||||
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4:19 |
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from Stigmata (스티그마타) by Billy Corgan [ost] (2000)
(Hail Mary)
No virgin me for I have sinned I sold my soul for sex and gin Go call a priest all meek and mild And tell him, 'Mary is no more a child' It's raining stones, it's raining bile From the luxury of your denial So I don't deny, I don't make do I'll press alarms, place bets on truth (Chorus) I'm so up and down, and I love what's not allowed I was lost, now I see And now I'm growing old disgracefully Whatever happened to Mary? (Repeat) Whatever happened to (Hail Mary) I'll spit on floors, and do more drugs Burn every bill, get drunk on love Wear next to nothing in the pouring rain Be a bad example and do it all again I'll be uncareful, I'll cause such scenes And I'll never talk of used-to-be's Tattoo my face, I won't go gray Be a dancing queen, I'm growing old disgracefully (Repeat chorus) Mary, Mary, Mary, quite contrary (Repeat) (Yram Liah) |
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