You paint your leather jacket but it comes off in the rain And the more you cut your hair the more it grows again The badges you pin on yourself fall
We're going backwards Into the sin of self-neglect What do we stand for? It's very easy to forget The protest marches Is it the done thing to object?
When the people of the country have forgotten how to disagree And the national economy is said to be OK And the wages that you get will help you to forget
I don't think I am what I was before I never watched anyone die before I wish I'd never left home I wish I'd left it alone Temptation is a disease You
The government talks about conscription Another self-imposed restriction Their excuse is no conviction Patriotism: It's all fiction There ain't no patriots
Can you hear the sound of people laughing Because they think they know it all? Where they've been and where they're going As if they themselves had written
She sits here drinking What does the fiction represent? The TV Scandal Can make her break out in a sweat She watches it to make her feel part Of something
Working class hero? No such thing Put on your Martens. you still can't sing No organised class, it's out of control Your mates are so young, you feel
Working for money and the system too Thought the dole queue made you worthless Now you're slaved to a public machine Getting somewhere...is this what
Mickey Mouse is dead Got kicked in the head Cos people got too serious They planned out what they said They couldn't take the fantasy Tried to accept
So you're living in fast world See the people you've already killed See what you've done with that machine of yours You can't justify it, you ain't
Ignorance and innocence go together Peace and harmony flowers and trees Your peace of mind only comes in pints There are other worlds apart from these
In a smoke-filled room "How's it going then?" (Hahaha) It's not going at all We got no more gigs You always knew it could be better But you never
Get up in the morning Alarm clocks clean socks Brush your teeth look neat Join the others on the street Bus ride tube train Going off to work again Up
Love is a bastard it tears you apart Just when you thought you didn't have a heart Couldn't give a fuck cause you didn't know how And suddenly everything
I fuckin' hate motorways.... service station angst release (touring band - traditional)!
Down in the basement in the house with the police outside There's something secret hidden away In various crates in a paralyzed state Are the heads for
You sat on a bus and wondered What future is there in this? Working all week to get money Cos money gets you pissed So you thought "I wanna be famous"