"The Post War Dream"
[Car sound, switching on of car radio]
"...announced plans to build a nuclear fallout shelter at Peterborough
in Cambridgeshire..."
[phzzt! of retuning]
"...three high court judges have cleared the way..."
[phzzt!]
"...It was announced today, that the replacement for the Atlantic
Conveyor the container ship lost in the Falklands conflict would be
built in Japan, a spokesman for..."
[phzzt!]
"...moving in. They say the third world countries, like Bolivia, which
produce the drug are suffering from rising violence...[fades]"
Tell me true, tell me why, was
Jesus crucified
Is it for this that Daddy died?
Was it for you? Was it me?
Did I watch too much T.V.?
Is that a hint of accusation
in your eyes?
If it wasn't for the nips
Being so good at building ships
The yards would still be open
on the clyde.
And it can't be much fun for
them
Beneath the rising sun
With all their kids committing
suicide.
What have we done, Maggie what
have we done?
What have we done to England?
Should we shout, should we scream
"What happened to the post war
dream?"
Oh Maggie, Maggie what have
we done?
"Your Possible Pasts"
They flutter behind you your
possible pasts,
Some brighteyed and crazy, some
frightened and lost.
A warning to anyone still in
command
[Cattle truck noises]
"Ranks! Fire!"
Of their possible future, to
take care.
In derelict sidings the poppies
entwine
With cattle trucks lying in
wait for the next time.
Do you remember me? How
we used to be?
Do you think we shoud be closer?
She stood in the doorway, the
ghost of a smile
Haunting her face like a cheap
hotel sign.
Her cold eyes imploring the
men in their macs
For the gold in their bags or
the knives in their backs.
Stepping up boldly one put out
his hand.
He said, "I was just a child
then, now I'm only a man."
Do you remember me? How
we used to be?
Do you think we should be closer?
By the cold and religious we
were taken in hand
Shown how to feel good and told
to feel bad.
Tongue tied and terrified we
learned how to pray
Now our feelings run deep and
cold as the clay.
And strung out behind us the
banners and flags
Of our possible pasts lie in
tatters and rags.
Do you remember me? How
we used to be?
Do you think we should be closer?
"One of the Few"
When you're one of the few to
land on your feet
What do you do to make ends
meet?
Teach.
Make them mad, make them sad,
make them add two and two.
Make them me, make them you,
make them do what you want them to.
Make them laugh, make them cry,
make them lie down and die.
"The Hero's Return"
Jesus, Jesus, what's it all about?
Trying to clout these little
ingrates into shape.
When I was their age all the
lights went out.
There was no time to whine or
mope about.
And even now part of me flies
over
Dresden at angels one five.
Though they'll never fathom
it begind my
Sarcasm desperate memories lie.
Sweetheart sweetheart are you
fast asleep? Good.
'Cause that's the only time
that I can really speak to you.
And there is something that
I've locked away
A memory that is too painful
To withstand the light of day.
When we came back from the war
the banners and
Flags hung on everyone's door.
We danced and we sang in the
street and
The church bells rang.
But burning in my heart
My memory smoulders on
Of the gunners dying words on
the intercom.
"The Gunner's Dream"
Floating down through the clouds
Memories come rushing up to
meet me now.
In the space between the heavens
and in the corner of some foreigh
field
I had a dream.
I had a dream.
Goodbye Max.
Goodbye Ma.
After the serng slowly to the
car
And the silver in her hair shines
in the cold november air
You hear the tolling bell
And touch the silk in your lapel
And as the tear drops rise to
meet the comfort of the band
You take her frail hand
And hold on to the dream.
A place to stay
"Oi! A real one ..."
Enough to eat
Somewhere old heroes shuffle
safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And whats more no-one ever disappears
You never hear their standard
issue kicking in your door.
You can relax on both sides
of the tracks
And maniacs don't blow holes
in bandsmen by remote control
And everyone has recourse to
the law
And no-one kills the children
anymore.
And no one kills the children
anymore.
Night after night
Going round and round my brain
His dream is driving me insane.
In the corner of some foreign
field
The gunner sleeps tonight.
What's done is done.
We cannot just write off his
final scene.
Take heed of his dream.
Take heed.
"Paranoid Eyes"
Button your lip. Don't let the
shield slip.
Take a fresh grip on your bullet
proof mask.
And if they try to break down
your disguise with their questions
You can hide, hide, hide,
"I'll tell you what, I'll give you three blacks, and play you for five
..."
"Ta! You was unlucky there son"
"Time gentleman!"
Behind paranoid eyes.
You put on our brave face and
slip over the road for a jar.
Fixing your grin as you casually
lean on the bar,
Laughing too loud at the rest
of the world
With the boys in the crowd
You hide, hide, hide,
Behind petrified eyes.
You believed in their stories
of fame, fortune and glory.
Now you're lost in a haze of
alchohol soft middle age
The pie in the sky turned out
to be miles too high.
And you hide, hide, hide,
Behind brown and mild eyes.
"Oi!"
"Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Desert"
"Oi...Get your filthy hands off my desert!"
"What 'e say?"
Brezhnev took Afghanistan.
Begin took Beirut.
Galtieri took the Union Jack.
And Maggie, over lunch one day,
Took a cruiser with all hands.
Apparently, to make him give
it back.
"The Fletcher Memorial Home"
Take all your overgrown infants
away somewhere
And build them a home, a little
place of their own.
The Fletcher Memorial
Home for Incurable Tyrants and
Kings.
And they can appear to themselves
every day
On closed circuit T.V.
To make sure they're still real.
It's the only connection they
feel.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please
welcome, Reagan and Haig,
Mr. Begin and friend, Mrs. Thatcher,
and Paisly,
"Hello Maggie!"
Mr. Brezhnev and party.
"Who's the bald chap?"
The ghost of McCarthy,
The memories of Nixon.
"Goodbye!"
And now, adding color, a group
of anonymous latin-
American Meat packing glitterati.
Did they expect us to treat them
with any respect?
They can polish their medals
and sharpen their
Smiles, and amuse themselves
playing games for awhile.
Boom boom, bang bang, lie down
you're dead.
Safe in the permanent gaze of
a cold glass eye
With their favorite toys
They'll be good girls and boys
In the Fletcher Memorial Home
for colonial
Wasters of life and limb.
Is everyone in?
Are you having a nice time?
Now the final solution can be
applied.
"Southampton Dock"
They disembarked in 45
And no-one spoke and no-one
smiled
There were to many spaces in
the line.
Gathered at the cenotaph
All agreed with the hand on
heart
To sheath the sacrificial Knifes.
But now
She stands upon Southampton
dock
With her handkerchief
And her summer frock clings
To her wet body in the rain.
In quiet desperation knuckles
White upon the slippery reins
She bravely waves the boys goodbye
again.
And still the dark stain spreads
between
His shoulder blades.
A mute reminder of the poppy
fields and graves.
And when the fight was over
We spent what they had made.
But in the bottom of our hearts
We felt the final cut.
"The Final Cut"
Through the fish-eyed lens of
tear stained eyes
I can barely define the shape
of this moment in time
And far from flying high in
clear blue skies
I'm sprialling down to the hole
in the ground where I hide.
If you negotiate the minefield
in the drive
And beat the dogs and cheat
the cold electronic eyes
And if you make it past the
shotgun in the hall,
Dial the combination, open the
priesthole
And if I'm in I'll tell you
what's behind the wall.
There's a kid who had a big hallucination
Making love to girls in magazines.
He wonders if you're sleeping
with your new found faith.
Could anybody love him
Or is it just a crazy dream?
And if I show you my dark side
Will you still hold me tonight?
And if I open my heart to you
And show you my weak side
What would you do?
Would you sell your story to
Rolling Stone?
Would you take the children
away
And leave me alone?
And smile in reassurance
As you whisper down the phone?
Would you send me packing?
Or would you take me home?
Thought I oughta bare my naked
feelings,
Thought I oughta tear the curtain
down.
I held the blade in trembling
hands
Prepared to make it but just
then the phone rang
I never had the nerve to make
the final cut.
"Hello? Listen, I think I've got it. Okay, listen its a HaHa!"
"Not Now John"
Fuck all that we've got to get
on with these
Gotta compete with the wily
Japanese.
There's too many home fires
burning
And not enough trees.
So fuck all that
We've go to get on with these.
Can't stop
Lose job
Mind gone
Silicon
What bomb
Get away
Pay day
Make hay
Break down
Need fix
Big six
Clickity click
Hold on
Oh no
Brrrrrrrrrring bingo!
Meke 'em laugh.
Make 'em cry.
Make 'em dance in the aisles.
Make 'em pay.
Make 'em stay.
Make'em feel ok.
Not nah John
We've got to get on with the
film show.
Hollywood waits at the end of
the rainbow.
Who cares what it's about
As long as the kids go?
Not now John
Got to get on with the show.
Hang on John we've got to get
on with this.
I don't know what it is
But it fits on here like.....
Come at the end of the shift
We'll go and get pissed.
But now now John
I've got to get on with this.
Hold on John
I think there's something good
on.
I used to read books but.....
It could be the news
Or some other abuse
Or it could be reusable shows.
Fuck all that we've got to get
on with these
Got to compete with the wily
Japanese.
No need to worry about the Vietnamese.
Got to bring the Russian Bear
to his knees.
Well, maybe not the Russian
Bear
Maybe the Swedes.
We showed Argentina
Now let's go and show these.
Make us feel tough
And wouldn't Maggie be pleased?
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah!
"s'cusi dove il bar
(What?)
se para collo pou eine toe bar
s'il vous plait ou est le bar
(...say it in English!...)
oi, where's the fucking bar John?
(Oh, now you're talking!)"
Oh! Rule Britannia! Britannia rules the day
Down!
Go, Maggie!
Hammer, Hammer, Hammer, Hammer, now!
"Two Suns in the Sunset"
In my rear view mirror the sun
is going down
Sinking behind bridges in the
road
And I think of all the good
things
That we have left undone
And I suffer premonitions
Confirm suspicions
Of the holocaust to come.
The wire that holds the cork
That keeps the anger in
Gives way
And suddenly it's day again.
The sun is in the east
Even though the day is done.
Two suns in the sunset
Hmmmmmmmmmm
Could be the human race is run.
Like the moment when the brakes
lock
And you slied towards the big
truck
"Oh no!"
"[scream] Daddy, Daddy!"
You stretch the frozen moments
with your fear.
And you'll never hear their
voices
And you'll never see their faces
You have no recourse to the
law anymore.
And as the windshield melts
My tears eveaporate
Leaving only charcoal to defend.
Finally I understand the feelings
of the few.
Ashes and diamonds
Foe and friend
We were all equal in the end.
"...and now the weather. Tomorrow will be cloudy with scattered showers
spreading from the east ... with an expected high of 4000 degrees
celsius..."