Pink Lemonade [cover] (rough mix)

A song about hopelessness in the face of industrial/governmental change.

The drivel:

While Britain booms on the kitchen side
You were left alone to crumble and cry
While Britain cries out for the change
You were the ones who took the hunger and blame

But I guess you feel low
And there’s nothing I can do
The world moves too slowly
For the likes of me and you
And boy I don’t know
What we’re both coming to
But I know
The future’s coming for you

You were the boys
Nobody wanted
You were the sons
Of strife and misery
Out on the scrap yard
Is where you earned your place
On the factory floor
Is where you lost your faith

While they salute their last goodbye
Indifference burned up in your plain, dead eyes
And as you screamed out for more
You just regressed into a pain-drenched bore

But I guess we’ll never grow
And there’s nothing I can do
The world moves too fast
You can’t run from truth
My friend I don’t know
What we’re both coming to
But I know
The future’s lost on you

You were the scrap
Nobody wanted
You were the children
Of slow, aching denial
Inside the classroom
Is where you earned your place
Behind a wall of screens
Is where you lost your faith

It’s a shame
That we live this way
We lie to our young
Laugh when they get stung
Now the lights are going out on us

The Lament

Now you can hear the drums.

Put me on your tattoo
Put me on your wall
Put me in some paper and burn it up
While you're waiting for the call

You say, "Marilyn Revival."
You say, "the new class act."
Well, I say your niche is a weak pastiche
Of a life barely left in tact

When I was young I watched a supermodel die
Her name was integrity, she knew how to fly
When I was innocent I watched a supermodel die
Her name's not important, she never made it to the sky

Helmsman of the unreal
I see you're selling lifestyles now
But you're less like Cindy Crawford and you're
More like Chairmam Mao

And the woman on the postcard
She's so pretty 'til she's hanged
And the shoulder she sheds tears upon
Is a beast that's horned and fanged, but I remember

When I was young I watched a supermodel die
Her name was integrity, she knew how to fly
When I was innocent I watched a supermodel die
Her name's not important, she never made it to the sky

It is just so swift and yet so terrible
A life you barely had
But with no justification for
Living your life like a fad

And a sword that's made of privilege
And a plastic shield of hope
There's never any wonder
Why they just can never cope, but I remember

When I was young I watched a supermodel die
Her name was integrity, she knew how to fly
When I was innocent I watched a supermodel die
Her name's not important, she never made it to the sky
She never made it to the sky.

Death Of A Supermodel

The Queen of Gravel Town

The Queen Of Gravel Town

Not Dead But Dying

Lyrics:

Verse
Now I’m out on the street, not regretting a thing
I’m an animal, I’m your lifelong friend 
And I’m sleeping under streetlight threats again

Chorus
I’ve been sleeping around with the opposition
And I’m running, yeah I’m running with a blue light on my back 
With a pistol at my head, it’s a dragon attack 
I’ve been sleeping around with the opposition
And I’m running, yeah I’m running with a blueneck on my back 
He’s a jumped up general in this dragon attack

Verse
Now I’m on the front page, off the record and on
I’m a poacher’s prey, I’m a martyr 
So I’ll sleep under a camera flash again

Chorus
I've been...

Bridge
The fairytales on page one, the sick fantasies on three 
I almost believe what I’ve been told I’ve done 
Now there’s nothing else to read

Chorus
I haven’t slept around with the opposition
And I’m running, yeah I’m running with the hound dogs on my back It’s a media frenzy, a bullshit attack
I’ve been sleeping around with your opposition
And you’re running, yeah you’re running because I’m on your back Got a pistol on your head, I’m ready to attack

Sleeping With The Opposition

Lyrics

Verse
They promised us love and autonomous life
We could travel anywhere without care
They'd have houses for the homeless, tax for the rich
And futures for the kids

But now everything is completely self-catered
From master's mouth to slums of the scum
They've got bank loans for the rich, evictions for the poor

Pre-chorus
These are the brain dead years
The loop gets tighter still

Chorus
Sixteen, seventeen, got no room for fun
Eighteen, nineteen, go and get some
Twenty, tango with that sun of gun
It's all dried up by twenty one

Verse
We made our choice now they punish us for it
My baby's in chains, she can't numb the pain
I bought canned food for the end times, Jameson for kicks
And heroin for my kids

But now everything is completely destroyed
Police on the beat, now whores on the street
I bought deep fried Mars bars and dirty films for kicks
And heroin for the kids

Pre-chorus
These are the brain dead years
The loop gets tighter still

Chorus
Sixteen, seventeen, got no room for fun
Eighteen, nineteen, go and get some
Twenty, tango with that sun of gun
It's all dried up by twenty one
Sixteen, seventeen, scrap heap calls you home
Eighteen, nineteen, so alone
Twenty, get lucky or removed from service
Because at twenty one you're just an unknown

Heroin for the Kids

The Last Boy Soldier V.2

Lyrics:

Verse
There must be a connection
Between the hand that feeds
And the arse that gives

It appears as pure perfection
So I’m guaranteed
To question it

Chorus
I don’t know where the money comes from
I just know there’s an endless supply
I know where the notoriety comes from
Now we’ve got nothing to write about

Verse
There must be a connection
Between honest hard work
And poverty

It appears that fabrication
Sells much better
Than artistry

Chorus
I don’t know where the money comes from
I just know that it won’t ever be mine
God knows where your credibility comes from
If they want to know your story, just lie

Bridge
You say you know the hardships
You just know the rest
Got the world in your back pocket
Of the threadbare jeans you wear to pretend
You came from nothing, well aren’t you something

Verse
There must be a connection
That’s much greater than
You and I

It seems that all you clichés
Are just toying
With my mind

Got to get through, some way, somehow…

Modern Syndicate

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