If you didn't care what happened to me, And I didn't care for you We would zig zag our way through the boredom and pain Occasionally glancing up through the rain Wondering which of the buggers to blame And watching for pigs on the wing.
Dogs
You gotta be crazy, You gotta have a real need You gotta sleep on your toes, When you're on the street You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat With your eyes closed And then moving in silently, Down wind and out of sight You gotta strike when the moment is right Without thinking.
And after a while, You can work on points for style Like the club tie, And the firm handshake A certain look in the eye, And an easy smile You have to be trusted By the people that you lie to So that when they turn their backs on you You'll get the chance to put the knife in.
You gotta keep one eye Looking over your shoulder You know it's going to get harder, And harder, and harder As you get older And in the end you'll pack up, Fly down south, Hide your head in the sand Just another sad old man All alone, dying of cancer.
And when you lose control, You'll reap the harvest You have sown. And as the fear grows, The bad blood slows and turns to stone And it's too late to lose The weight you used to need to throw around So have a good drown, As you go down, all alone, Dragged down by the stone.
I gotta admit That I'm a little bit confused Sometimes it seems to me As if I'm just being used. Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off This creeping malaise If I don't stand my own ground, How can I find my way out of this maze?
Deaf, dumb, and blind, You just keep on pretending That everyone's expendable, And no one has a real friend. It seems to you the thing to do Would be to isolate the winner Everything's done under the sun And you believe at heart, everyone's a killer.
Who was born in a house full of pain Who was trained not to spit in the fan Who was told what to do by the man Who was broken by trained personnel Who was fitted with collar and chain Who was given a pat on the back Who was breaking away from the pack Who was only a stranger at home Who was ground down in the end Who was found dead on the phone Who was dragged down by the stone.
Pigs (Three different ones)
Big man, pig man, ha ha, charade you are You well heeled big wheel, ha ha, charade you are And when your hand is on your heart You're nearly a good laugh Almost a joker With your head down in the pig bin Saying "keep on digging" Pig stain on your fat chin What do you hope to find? When you're down in the pig mine You're nearly a laugh You're nearly a laugh But you're really a cry.
Bus stop rat bag, ha ha, charade you are You fucked up old hag, ha ha, charade you are You radiate cold shafts of broken glass You're nearly a good laugh Almost worth a quick grin You like the feel of steel You're hot stuff with a hat pin And good fun with a hand gun You're nearly a laugh You're nearly a laugh But you're really a cry.
Hey you Whitehouse, ha ha, charade you are You house proud town mouse, ha ha, charade you are You're trying to keep your feelings off the street You're nearly a real treat All tight lips and cold feet And do you feel abused? ...!...!...! You gotta stem the evil tide And keep it all on the inside Mary you're nearly a treat Mary you're nearly a treat But you're really a cry.
Sheep
Harmlessly passing your time in the grassland away Only dimly aware of a certain unease in the air You better watch out There may be dogs about I've looked over Jordan and I have seen Things are not what they seem.
What do you get for pretending the danger's not real Meek and obedient you follow the leader Down well trodden corridors into the valley of steel What a surprise! A look of terminal shock in your eyes Now things are really what they seem No, this is no bad dream.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want He makes me down to lie Through pastures green he leadeth me the silent waters by With bright knives he releaseth my soul He maketh me to hang on hooks in high places He converteth me to lamb cutlets For lo,m he hath great power and great hunger When cometh the day we lowly ones Through quiet reflection and great dedication Master the art of karate Lo, we shall rise up And then we'll make the bugger's eyes water.
Bleating and babbling we fell on his neck with a scream Wave upon wave of demented avengers March cheerfully out of obscurity into the dream.
Have you heard the news? The dogs are dead! You better stay home And do as you're told Get out of the road if you want to grow old.
Pigs on the Wing (Part II)
You know that I care what happens to you And I know that you care for me So I don't feel alone Of the weight of the stone Now that I've found somewhere safe To bury my bone And any fool knows a dog needs a home A shelter from pigs on the wing.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
