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Pigs On The Wing (part one)

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

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, 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

Pigs On The Wing (part two)

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

All lyrics by Roger Waters

Battersea Power Station