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
You've got to be crazy, you gotta have a real need You gotta sleep on your toes when you're on the street You've got to be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed Then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight You've got to strike when the moment is right without thinking After a while you can work on points for style Like the club tie, and the firm handshake A sudden 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 gonna get harder, harder and harder as you get older Yeah and in the end you'll pack up, fly down south Hide your head in the sand Just another sad old man, all alone and 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 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 place Deaf, dumb, and blind--you just keep on pretending That everyone's expendable, and no one has a real friend And it sems 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
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, 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 our feelings off the streets You're nearly a real treat, all tight lips and cold feet And do you feel abused? ! ! ! ! ! ! ! You've got to 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
Harmlessly passing your time in the grassland away
Only dimly aware of a certain unease in the air
You'd better watch out--there may be dogs about
I have 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 not a 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, 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'd better stay home and do as you're told
Get out of the road if you wanna grow old
You know that I care what happens to you
And I know that you care for me too
So I don't feel alone, or 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
Battersea Power Station
