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 any more
And no-one kills the children any more
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 and 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 alcohol 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
GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY DESERT
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 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
SOUTHAMPTON DOCK
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 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
Their 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 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 shotguns 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 had to bare my naked feelings
Thought i had to 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
NOT NOW JOHN
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 o.k.
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
So not now john
We've 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 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, may be not the russian bear
May be the swedes
We showed argentina
Not let's go and show these