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| 1. |
| 3:02 | 
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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 TV? 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? |
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| 2. |
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They flutter behind you your possible pasts
Some brighteyed and crazy, some frightened and lost A warning to anyone still in command 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 should 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 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? |
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| 3. |
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When you're one of the few to land on your feet
What do you do to make ends meet? Make them mad, make them sad, make them add two and two Oh, 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 |
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| 4. |
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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 and mope about And even now part of me flies Over Dresden at angels one five Though they'll never fathom it behind my sarcasm Desperate memories lie Sweetharet, sweetheart, are you fast asleep, good 'Cos that's the only time that I can really talk to you And there is something that I've locked away A memory that is too paintful 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 The memory smoulders on Of the gunners dying words on the intercom |
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| 5. |
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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 foreign field I had a dream I had a dream Goodbye max, goodbye ma After the service when you're walking 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 enough to eat Somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street Where you can speak out loud About your doubts and fears And what's 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 |
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| 6. |
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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 Behind paranoid eyes You put on your 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 can 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 |
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| 7. |
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"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 |
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| 8. |
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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 TV To make sure they're still real It's the only connection they feel "Ladies and gentlemaen, please welcome Reagan and Haig, Mr. Begin and Friend, Mrs. Thatcher and Paisley, Mr. Brezhnev and Party, The Ghost of McCarthy, the Memories of Nixon And now adding colour 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 a while Boom boom, bang bang, lie down, you're dead Safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye With their favourite 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 |
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| 9. |
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They disembarked in 45
And no one spoke and no one smiled There were too 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 Ooo.. 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 |
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| 10. |
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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 spiralling 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 shoutgun 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 shisper 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 |
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| 11. |
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Fuck all that we've got to get on with these
Got to compete with the wily Japanese There's too many home fires burning and not enough trees So fuck all that we've got 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! Make 'em laugh, make 'em cry, make 'em dance in the aisles Make 'em pay, make 'em stay, make 'em feel, OK Not now 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 So not now John got to get on with the show Hang on John I'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 not 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 compare 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 s'cusi dove il bar se para collo pou eine toe bar s'il vous plait ou est le bar oi' where's the fucking bar John |
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| 12. |
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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 hmm... Could be the human race is run Like the moment when the brakes lock And you slide towards the big truck 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 evaporate 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 |
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