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The Style Council Miscellaneous Confessions Of A Pop-Group Cheap and tacky bullshit land told when to sit don't know where you stand too busy recreating the past to live in the future. Poor relations to Uncle Sam - bears no relation to the country man too busy being someone else to be who you really are. Shitty plastic prefab town mind where you walk when the sun goes down too busy hating others to even love your own. Bobbies on the beat again - beating blacks for blues again. It's one way to get involved in the community. Love me, love my jeans I must buy shares in Heinz baked beans too busy buying up, selling out, selling off. 3,2,1, in others terms - win a life sentence and a queen mum perm the individuals that state, in a state of seige. Do pop and press and mix, do tits and news stew The next one in the poor house could be you to busy saying "thank you" to say what for? No time to spare - "spare me a dime"? the Great Depression is organised crime Their confessions are written in your blood. Kiss your ass an' dreams goodbye come back when you've learnt to cry to busy try'na be strong to see how weak you are. Wave your flags and waive your fate the freedom you claim is the one you hate the victory you seek will never come. Brutal views through brutal eyes see no future, hear no lies speak no truth to me or the people I love. When I grow up I want to be all the things you've never been and your opinion will count for none. |
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