Generation terrorists
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Slash N' Burn
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
You need your stars, even killers have prestige
Access to a living you will not see
24 boredom, I'm convicted instantly
Gorgeous poverty of created needs
Slash and burn
Kill to live
Kill for kicks
3rd world to the 1st
Kill to live
Worms in the garden more real than a McDonalds
Drain your blood and let the Exxon spill in
Look around here, you see nothing is very real
Chained to economy now famine has been
Slash and burn
Kill to live
Kill for kicks
3rd world to the 1st
Kill to live
That's all you need
That's all you need
That's all you need
That's all you need
Madonna drinks Coke and so you can too
Taste's real good not like a sweet poison should
Too much comfort to get decadent
Politics here's death and God is safer sex
Slash and burn
Kill to live
Kill for kicks
3rd world to the 1st
Kill to live
Kill for kicks
Slash and burn
Kill to live
Kill for kicks
3rd world to the 1st
Kill to live
That's all you need
That's all you need
That's all you need
That's all you need
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Natwest-Barclays-Midlands-Lloyds
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Economic forecast soothe our dereliction
Words of euthanasia, apathy of sick routine
Carried away with useless advertising dreams
Blinding children, life as autonotomes
NatWest, NatWest-Barclays-Midlands-Lloyds
Blackhorse apocalypse
Death sanitised through credit
NatWest, NatWest-Barclays-Midlands-Lloyds
Blackhorse apocalypse
Death sanitised through credit
Barclays iron eagle, "33 injection"
Sold to advertisers, computer execution line
They give and take away, repossess and crucify
The more you own the more you are, lonelier with cheap desire
NatWest, NatWest-Barclays-Midlands-Lloyds
Blackhorse apocalypse
Death sanitised through credit
NatWest, NatWest-Barclays-Midlands-Lloyds
Blackhorse apocalypse
Death sanitised through credit
Prosperity - exports for Pol Pot
Prosperity - Mein Kampf for beginners
NatWest, NatWest-Barclays-Midlands-Lloyds
Blackhorse apocalypse
Death sanitised through credit
NatWest, NatWest-Barclays-Midlands-Lloyds
Blackhorse apocalypse
Death sanitised through credit
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Born To End
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Get some pain and I feel alive - born to end
Close my eyes overdose on hell - born to end
Get run over by no direction - born to end
Breathing dead and I'm born to end - born to end
Fall to the floor my baby (baby)
I no longer believe (baby)
Fall to the floor my baby (baby)
I've lost the love to sleep
H-bomb the only thing that will bring a freedom to life
Underneath the blue skies beautiful empty dying
Nagasaki dolls are burning
Europe freed by McDonalds and Levi's - born to end
Can't afford it so I hate it all - born to end
Images linger like repression - born to end
Concentration camps of our dreams - born to end
Fall to the floor my baby (baby)
I no longer believe (baby)
Fall to the floor my baby (baby)
I've lost the love to sleep
H-bomb the only thing that will bring a freedom to life
Underneath the blue skies beautiful empty dying
Nagasaki dolls are burning
H-bomb the only thing that will bring a freedom to life
Underneath the blue skies beautiful empty dying dolls
Beg for mercy
Pray for war
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Motorcycle Emptiness
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Culture sucks down words
Itemise loathing and feed yourself smiles
Organise your safe tribal war
Hurt maim kill and enslave the ghetto
Each day living out a lie
Life sold cheaply forever, ever, ever
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Life lies a slow suicide
Orthodox dreams and symbolic myths
From feudal serf to spender
This wonderful world of purchase power
Just like lungs sucking on air
Survivals natural as sorrow, sorrow, sorrow
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
All we want from you are the kicks you've given us
All we want from you are the kicks you've given us
All we want from you are the kicks you've given us
All we want from you are the kicks you've given us
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Drive away and it's the same
Everywhere death row, everyone's a victim
Your joys are counterfeit
This happiness corrupt political shit
Living life like a comatose
Ego loaded and swallow, swallow, swallow
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness everlasting nothingness
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
You Love Us
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
We are not your sinners
Our voices are for real
We realised and won't be mourned
We gonna burn your deathmask uniforms
We won't die of devotion
Understand we can never belong
Throw some acid into your face
Pollute your mineral water with a strychnine taste
You love us
You love us
You love us
You love
You love us
Oh you love us
You love
You love us
You love us
You love
'Til I see love in statues
Your lessons drill inherited sin
Parliaments a fake life saver
You better wake up and smell the real flavour
You love us like a holocaust
Same P.R. problem as E.S.T.
You love us like a holocaust
Same P.R. problem as E.S.T.
You love us
You love us
You love us
You love
You love us
Oh you love us
You love
You love us
You love us
You love
You love us
You love us
You love us
You love
You love us
Oh you love us
You love
You love us
You love us
You love
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Love's Sweet Exile
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
between the billboard masturbation across highways of metallic isolation
there lies the deafening screaming of the millions wiping out the diseased
pages
of apathy that bleed our innocence...
Love's sweet exile
Love's sweet exile
We blur into images of state coercion
Classified machines die misunderstood
City reflections pour out misery
We don't count cos we hate
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Leave this country
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Leave it
Despair seeps through and cuts our eyes
Unified collapse of everything inside
We understand but can't accept
You are not dead cos we hate
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Leave this country
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Leave it
Our lives drift into a faceless sense of void
Everything of meaning becomes destroyed
There's too much concrete for us to breathe
We are kept down cos we hate
Love's sweet exile
Love's sweet exile
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Leave this country
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Believe it
Love's sweet exile
Love's sweet exile
(Intro taken from 'The Eloquence In The Screaming', a poem by patrick jones)
© 1991 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Little Baby Nothing (With Traci Lords)
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
No one likes looking at you
Your lack of ego offends male mentality
They need your innocence
To steal vacant love and to destroy
Your beauty and virginity used like toys
My mind is dead, everybody love's me
Wants a slice of me
Hopelessly passive and compatible
Need to belong, oh the roads are scarey
So hold me in your arms
I wanna be your only possession
Used, used, used by men
Used, used, used by men
All they leave behind is money
Paper made out of broken twisted trees
Your pretty face offends
Because it's something real that I can't touch
Eyes, skin, bone, contour, language as a flower
No god reached me, faded films and loving books
Black and white TV
All the world does not exist for me
And if I'm starving, you can feed me lollipops
Your diet will crush me
My life just an old man's memory
Little baby nothing
Loveless slavery, lips kissing empty
Dress your life in loathing
Breaking your mind with Barbie Doll futility
Little baby nothing
Sexually free, made-up to breakup
Assassinated beauty
Moths broken up, quenched at last
The vermin allowed a thought to pass them by
You are pure, you are snow
We are the useless sluts that they mould
Rock 'n' roll is our epiphany
Culture, alienation, boredom and despair
You are pure, you are snow
We are the useless sluts that they mould
Rock 'n' roll is our epiphany
Culture, alienation, boredom and despair
© 1991 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Repeat (Stars And Stripes)
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
I've seen this happen before
This is a message from occupied England
British adults expect a nuclear war in our lifetime
From earliest human existence there proved to be two fundamental ways of
thinking
Repeat after me
Fuck queen and country
Repeat after me
Death sentence heritage
Repeat after me
Death camp palace
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
Repeat after me
Fuck queen and country
Repeat after me
Royal Khymer Rouge
Repeat after me
Imitation demi-gods
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
I've seen this happen before
A force of sensationalism
A force of sensationalism
From earliest human existence there proved to be two fundamental ways of
thinking
What happens to the brains?
What happens?
British adults expect a nuclear war in our lifetime
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
Repeat after me
Fuck queen and country
Repeat after me
Royal Khymer Rouge
Repeat after me
Imitation demi-gods
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
British adults expect a nuclear war in our lifetime
British adults expect a nuclear war in our lifetime
© 1991 Sony Music Publishing (UK) Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tennessee
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Your dream can never earn enough
Ultimate nihilistic love
Tennessee nights just zip-code love
Always believe the comfort of strangers
Tennessee eyes graffiti once blue
Media sells a trace of hate
Media sells a trace of hate
Our epitaph reads like your sin
Subvert, destroy, beat derelict
Tennessee nights just zip-code love
Commanche becomes as maggot
Tennessee eyes orange once blue
Media sells a trace of hate
Media sells a trace of hate
His pain forgets her agony
His heart P-M-R-C
His heart P-M-R-C
The white man is disease
His heart P-M-R-C
Your dream can never earn enough
Ultimate nihilistic love
© 1991 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Another Invented Disease
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Drugs come out of boredom babe
U.N. exports it everyday
Their armies feed the ghetto lame
Government approve it just the same
Daylight bores the sunshine out of me
I need to feel alone amongst the weeds
Daylight bores the sunshine out of me
I need to feel (I need to feel)
I need to feel (I need to feel)
We need and we will always need
Another invented disease
We need and we are taught to need
Another invented disease
Left alone in corporate slums
Where germs are free not amex fun
Healthy bodies in empty minds
Only exists in advert time
Daylight bores the sunshine out of me
I need to feel alone amongst the weeds
Daylight bores the sunshine out of me
I need to feel (I need to feel)
I need to feel (I need to feel)
We need and we will always need
Another invented disease
We need and we are taught to need
Another invented disease
Sunk deep in my TV
Maybe sucked the soul from within me
We need and we will always need
Another invented disease
We need and we are taught to need
Another invented disease
We need and we will always need
Another invented disease
We need and we are taught to need
Another invented disease
© 1991 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stay Beautiful
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Find your faith in your security
All broken up at seventeen
Jam your brain with broken heroes
Love your masks and adore your failure
We're a mess of eyeliner and spraypaint
D.I.Y. destruction on chanel chic
Deny your culture of consumption
This is a culture of destruction
Don't wanna see your face
Don't wanna hear your words
Why don't you just
Don't wanna see your face
Don't wanna hear your words
Why don't you just
Babes on the run with poisoned lips
Wrap your arms round this everlasting kiss
Clinging to your own sense of waste
All we love is lonely wreckage
Your school your dole and your chequebook dreams
Your clothes your suits and your pension schemes
Now you say you know how we feel
But don't fall in love cos we hate you still
Don't wanna see your face
Don't wanna hear your words
Why don't you just
Don't wanna see your face
Don't wanna hear your words
Why don't you just
Destroyed by madness, oh yeah
Destroyed by madness, oh yeah
Destroyed by madness, oh yeah
Anxiety is freedom
© 1991 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
So Dead
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Learn to sleep through misery
Never gonna wake feeling free
No one fucks as good as Marilyn
Plastic surgery sure cures your sins
You need a fix I'm your prostitute
Repression says depravity's cute
I'll feed you lines to make you smile
You're so easy to dehumanise
It's not that I can't find worth in anything
It's just that I can't find worth in enough
It's not that I can't find worth in anything
In your love
Pay for it
Pay for it
Degrade your senses till you hate me
Begging to be cool through nicotine
Decadence costs but she must be clean
Build up walls so you can't feel
When you get high 'It's so unreal'
Days fade in and I need the night
I've seen your dumb face all of my life
Eyes close down, I don't wanna see
Broken communion of the twentieth century
It's not that I can't find worth in anything
It's just that I can't find worth in enough
It's not that I can't find worth in anything
In your love
Pay for it
Pay for it
You're gonna pay for my intelligence
Pay for it
Pay for it
Cos I'm a slut and you just suck
Pay for it
Pay for it
Degrade your senses till you hate me
Pay for it
Pay for it
We promote all sickness and disease
You're gonna pay for my intelligence
Cos I'm a slut and you just suck
You're so dead
You're so dead
© 1991 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Repeat (UK)
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
London, England, consider yourselves warned
Repeat after me
Fuck queen and country
Repeat after me
Death sentence heritage
Repeat after me
Death camp palace
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
Repeat after me
Fuck queen and country
Repeat after me
Royal Khymer Rouge
Repeat after me
Imitation demi-gods
Useless generation
Dumb flag scum
Useless generation
Dumb flag scum
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
Useless generations
Dumb flag scum
© 1991 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spectators Of Suicide
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Obedience to the law is free desire
Under curfew from neon barbed wire
Wasting away this country, wearing like a born dead
Free heroin shots for those who never beg
Spectators of suicide
Exploding in society's eye
Democracy is an empty lie
Dead like our yesterdays tonight
The only free choice is refusal to pay
Life reduced to suicidal pain
Cigarettes a life-line, it's safety in death
Choking on the billboards, advertised and fed
Spectators of suicide
Exploding in society's eye
Democracy is an empty lie
Dead like our yesterdays tonight
You're gonna shoot us dead with decadence
You're gonna shoot us dead with decadence
© 1991 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Damn Dog
(Jacob Brackman/Billy Mernit)
This is Damn Dog by the Manic street preachers
Take one
Two, three, four
I can lick your face
I can bite it too
Ooh my teeths got rabies
I'm gonna give it to you
Feed me, feed me
Can't you hear me howl
Feed me
Cos I'm a damned dog now
Gotta taste for flesh
Gotta taste for danger
So I foam and chew
Bite the hands of a stranger
Feed me, feed me
Can't you hear me howl
Feed me
Cos I'm a damned dog now
Feed me, feed me
Can't you hear me howl
Feed me
Cos I'm a damned dog
© 1980 Stigwood Music Inc.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Crucifix Kiss
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
so mighty so hegemonic so hating so desecrating so there so nowhere so
hurting
we fall between indifference rejection and the whole fucking wall
we fall
Christin me fuhrer nazarine
Believe in tomorrow but not today
Give me all your possessions
Make poverty your perfect home
Allow your leaders to control you
Questions are now blasphemy
Why walk when you can crawl
Stay on your knees and kiss my feet
Censorship'll stop your excess thought
Check your billboard for my tour
Listen to Luke sermon six
"And if one of the occupation troops forces you to carry his
Pack one kilometer carry it two"
Be a tourist in the warzone
Interrogate scriptures and not your stinking home
That diet of bread and waters old
Now feed on alcohol drug and do what you're told
Now we'll take your number for a name
Soak mind control in christening water out of jail
Fall in love, fall in love with me
Nail a crucifix onto your soul
Fall in love, fall in love with me
Nail a crucifix onto your soul
Fall in love, fall in love with me
Nail a crucifix onto your soul
Fall in love, fall in love with me
Nail a crucifix onto your soul
(Intro taken from 'Torying', a poem by patrick jones)
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Methadone Pretty
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
I am nothing and should be everything
You're methadone pretty, surrender in pity
Intentional destruction germ
Eats your thoughts and make you happy
They wanna piece of your skin
Pump it safer than, than a suicide
Methadone pretty
Methadone pretty
Heart beats like a refuge machine
Pretty hostage mass, licensed to obey
Xerox days to acceptance
Decline accelerates into prejudice
They wanna piece of your skin
Pump it safer than, than a suicide
Methadone pretty
Methadone pretty
I accuse history, I accuse
I accuse history, I accuse
I accuse history
I accuse history, I accuse
I accuse history, I accuse
I don't need your history
Wreckage inside all that's real
Another bought product, no reality
Passive consumers with patrolled desires
Mindless countdown to retirement
They wanna piece of your skin
Pump it safer than, than a suicide
Gonna stay a terminal young thing
An' never gonna be methadone pretty
Methadone pretty
Methadone pretty
Methadone
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Condemned To Rock 'N' Roll
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Always feeling torn and slow
Love song cull destroy poem
Misery and trauma making love
Best go shoot the fucking doves
The past is so beautiful
The future like a corpse in snow
I think it's all the fucking same
It's a life sentence babe
A line of vodka tears inside
A shot of boredom helps my mind
Staring through a thousand dead eyes
I guess my nerves are brutalised
Lips I kiss just another plague
Love can't fix the hole they made
Condemned to rock n'
Condemned to rock n' roll
No innocent exit when hope dies
And claustrophobia buys my mind
I ran to breathe contagious lies
No reasons for just living life
Ripcord opens but my soul is cold
With you I never felt more alone
Skin never sweating dignity
Kept my line beneath ecstasy
This fragile prison of sanity
An ocean wave to death babe
Masochistic love going nowhere
You're nothing, pestilience, a seed
Lips I kiss just another plague
Love can't fix the hole they made
Condemned to rock n'
Oblivions all we know
Lips I kiss just another plague
Lips I kiss just another plague
Love can't fix the hole they made
Sterile like a line of piss, motherfucker
Review with avant garde lips, you're just a motherfucker
There's nothing I wanna see
There's nowhere I wanna go
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
Gold against the soul
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sleepflower
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Morning always seems too stale to justify
Lament blossoms, hours minutes of our lives
Broken thoughts run through your empty mind
At least a beaten dog knows how to lie
I feel like I'm missing pieces of sleep
A memory fades to a, a pale landscape
You were an extinction, a desert heat
A blind illness of my anxiety
Endless hours in bed, no peace, in this mind
No one knows the hell where innocence dies
Fragments crawling like cobwebs on stone
Blows away the safety only a sleeping pill knows
I feel like I'm missing pieces of sleep
A memory fades to a, a pale landscape
You were an extinction, a desert heat
A blind illness of my anxiety
I feel like I'm missing pieces of sleep
A memory fades to a, a pale landscape
You were an extinction, a desert heat
A blind illness of my anxiety
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
------------------------------------------------------------------------
From Despair To Where
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
I write this alone on my bed
I've poisoned every room in the house
The place is quiet and so alone
Pretend there's something worth waiting for
There's nothing nice in my head
The adult world took it all away
I wake up with same spit in my mouth
I cannot tell if it is real or not
I try and walk in a straight line
An imitation of dignity
From despair to where
From despair to where
Outside open mouthed crowds
Pass each other as if they're drugged
Down pale corridors of routine
Where life falls unatoned
The weak kick like straw
Till the world means less and less
Words are never enough
Just cheap tarnished glitter
I try and walk in a straight line
An imitation of dignity
From despair to where
From despair to where
A cripple walks in a straight line
An imitation of dignity
From despair to where
From despair to where
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
------------------------------------------------------------------------
La Tristesse Durera (Scream To A Sigh)
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Life has been unfaithful
And it all promised so so much
I am a relic
I am just a petrified cry
Wheeled out once a year, a cenotaph souvenir
The applause nails down my silence
La tristesse durera
Scream to a sigh, to a sigh
La tristesse durera
Scream to a sigh, to a sigh
I see liberals
I am just a fashion accessory
People send postcards
And they all hope I'm feeling well
I retreat into self-pity, it's so easy
Where they patronise my misery
La tristesse durera
Scream to a sigh, to a sigh
La tristesse durera
Scream to a sigh, to a sigh
La tristesse durera
Scream to a sigh, to a sigh
La tristesse durera
Scream to a sigh, to a sigh
I sold my medal
It paid a bill
It sells at market stalls
Parades Milan catwalks
Oh, the sadness will never go
Will never go away
Baby it's here to stay
La tristesse durera
Scream to a sigh, to a sigh
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yourself
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Your ritual everyday
A mild shower soak in aftershave
Best clothes do your best
Look in the mirror go on
Belittle yourself yourself yourself
Belittle yourself yourself yourself
You go on day after day
Dreaming on a lie
That you keep locked inside
Of yourself
Yourself
Yourself
Of yourself
Yourself
Yourself
Can you sleep tonight
Cast aside for some pouting young pup
Sink into a slurred veneer
Alcoholic haze so now
Least you can like yourself yourself
Least you can like yourself yourself
You go on day after day
Reservoirs of guilt
That your fixed grin always hides
And yourself
Yourself
Yourself
Of yourself
Yourself
Yourself
And yourself
Yourself
Yourself
Of yourself
Yourself
Yourself
You look at ad's all day
Everyone is perfect and you're so lame
Free scent burns your skin
But no smell can really cover sin
Too many teenage holes to fill
Too many teenage holes to fill
You go on day after day
Speak to your despised
Blanking your loved ones
And yourself
Yourself
Yourself
And yourself
Yourself
Yourself
And yourself
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Life Becoming A Landslide
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Childbirth tears upon her muscle
Very first second a screaming icon
Babies in time barely even recognise
Words that once stroked now bruising tired lips
My idea of love comes from
A childhood glimpse of pornography
Though there is no true love
Just a finely tuned jealousy
Life becoming a landslide
Ice freezing nature dead
Life becoming a landslide
I don't wanna be a man
Everyday more numb to agony
This the howl this the sigh of the lonely
One day I realise oil on canvas
Can never paint a petal so so delicate
My idea of love comes from
A childhood glimpse of pornography
Though there is no true love
Just a finely tuned jealousy
Life becoming a landslide
Ice freezing nature dead
Life becoming a landslide
I don't wanna be a man
Life becoming a landslide
Ice freezing nature dead
Life becoming a landslide
I don't wanna be a...
My idea of love comes from
A childhood glimpse of pornography
Though there is no true love
Just a finely tuned jealousy
Life becoming a landslide
A mile empty inside
Life becoming a landslide
Desire on its knees
Life becoming a landslide
A mile empty inside
Life becoming a landslide
Desire on its knees
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drug Drug Druggy
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
So much fun to be had in my head
No more sunshine
So much fun just lying in my bed
No more sunshine
I can't face the sunlight and the dirt outside
Wanna stay in 666 where this darkness don't lie
Drug drug druggy
Got a feeling sweet like honey
Drug drug druggy
I need sensation like my baby
Show me your scars you're so aware
I'm not barbaric I just care
Drug drug drug
I need a reflection to prove I exist
No more sunshine
I am a victim of designer blitz
No more sunshine
Dance like a robot when you're chained at the knee
The C.I.A. say you're all they'll ever need
Drug drug druggy
Got a feeling sweet like honey
Drug drug druggy
I need sensation like my baby
Snort your lines you're so aware
I'm not barbaric I just care
Drug drug drug
Drug drug druggy
Got a feeling sweet like honey
Drug drug druggy
I need sensation like my baby
Drug drug druggy
Drug drug druggy
Drug drug druggy
A B C D E
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roses In The Hospital
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Roses in the hospital
Try to pull my fingernails out
Roses in the hospital
I want to cling to something soft
Roses in the hospital
Progressing like a constant war
Roses in the hospital
There's no one to feel ashamed for
All we wanted was a home
Now we are so strung out we wanna own
Like a leaf in the autumn breeze
Like a flood in January
We don't want your fucking love
Roses in the hospital
Stub cigarettes out on my arm
Roses in the hospital
Want to feel something of value
Roses in the hospital
Nothing really makes me happy
Roses in the hospital
Heroin is just too trendy
All we wanted was a home
Now we are so strung out we wanna own
Like a leaf in the autumn breeze
Like a flood in January
We don't want your fucking love
Roses in the hospital
This century achieved so much
Roses in the hospital
To make a voice no voice at all
Roses in the hospital
Flowers cannot express the loss
Roses in the hospital
Torn reflections of burnt out trash
Of burnt out trash
Forever ever delayed
Forever ever delayed
Forever
Forever
Forever ever delayed
(Indepencence is a game)
Forever ever delayed
(Credibility, I'm yawning)
Forever
Forever
(Rudi Rudi Rudi Rudi Rudi Rudi Rudi Rudi gonna fail)
Forever ever delayed
Forever delayed
Forever
Forever
Forever delayed
(The west scratches onto my skin)
Forever delayed
(Contagious like a suntain)
We never felt any sun, any sun
Rudi Rudi Rudi gonna fail
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nostalgic Pushead
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
One two three four five six seven eight
I am the raping sunglass gaze
Of sweating man and escort agencies
60's Alienation the anthem of care
Now a knife constantly slashing eyelids
Slavery to the beat
Slavery to the chord
Slavery to the pleasure
Slavery to the God
Slavery to the beat
Slavery to the chord
Slavery to the pleasure
Slavery to the God
They dig the new scene and their parties
Where stonehenge is worshipped and drugs a deity
Vicarious thrills re-run their youth
We follow we have no voice the dead
Radio nostalgia is radio death
I wanna cover diamonds on my wife
Hardrock nostalgia the Stones on CD
Tranquilised icons for the sweet paralysed
Slavery to the beat
Slavery to the chord
Slavery to the pleasure
Slavery to the God
Slavery to the beat
Slavery to the chord
Slavery to the pleasure
Slavery to the God
So cool the new sound of the decade
Thinks it's so fresh not a post Elvis still
All taste is nothing old pictures blowdried
Rebellion it always sells at a profit
I am a face of fashion in Soho Square
My tie is Paul Smith or Gaultier
My cheeks blood red as my favourite port
But hey cocaine keeps cholesterol at bay
Slavery to the beat
Slavery to the chord
Slavery to the pleasure
Slavery to the God
Slavery to the beat
Slavery to the chord
Slavery to the pleasure
Slavery to the God
Some god
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Symphony Of Tourette
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Stutter stutter says the little boy
I wanna blow a hole in my head
I swear what this world wants to hear
Trapped in what we know as truth syndrome
Stutter stutter silence no friend
Childern can be cruel she said
So I smashed her in the fucking head
Sorry dear that's the nature of Tourette
Stutter stutter nothing else but me
I twitch and turn while underneath
My contemporaries are so in control
Fuck you fuck you I grunt and groan
Stutter stutter can't keep it no more
Childern can be cruel she said
So I smashed her in the fucking head
Sorry dear that's the nature of Tourette
Stutter stutter are your eyes closed
You know a hole through which you can fall
But I can't even be bothered to hang on
When you're this numb news don't register
I just opened my eyes
Gilles de La Tourette syndrome - A condition of severe and multiple tics,
including vocal tics and involuntary obscene speech (coprolalia). The
patient may also involuntarily repeat or imitate the actions of others. The
condition usually starts in childhood and becomes chronic; the causes are
unknown.
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gold Against The Soul
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Somebody told me to vote conservative
Tragedy is not known under this dimmest of lights
Everybody feels sick by the courtesy of dismay
Was I schooled without direction
Gold against the soul
Rock n' roll has a conscience
It supplies convenience
Gold against
Against the soul
Against the soul
Close the pits sanctify Roy Lynk an O.B.E.
Shareholding a piece of this fucking country
Fossilize - make Yorkshire into a tourist resort
And dream of new ways to humble the poor
Gold against the soul
White liberal hates slavery
Needs Thai labour to clean his home
Gold erodes
Erodes the soul
Erodes the soul
A 1000 Marlboro death ignored everyday
And who gives a shit about sexuality
Gold against the soul
Working class cliches start here
Either cloth caps of smack victims
Gold destroyed
Destroyed the soul
Destroyed the soul
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Song Of Those Who Died In Vain
(Primo Levi [1919 - 1987])
Sit down and bargain
All you like grizzled old foxes
We'll wall you up in a splendid palace
With food, wine, good beds and a good fire
Provided that you discuss, negotiate
For our and your children's lives
May all the wisdom of the universe
Converge to bless your minds
And guide you in the maze
But outside in the cold we will be waiting for you
The army of those who died in vain
We of the Marne, of Montecassino
Treblinka, Dresden and Hiroshima
And with us will be
The leprous and the people with trachoma
The disappeared ones of Buenos Aires
Dead Cambodians and dying Ethiopians
The Prague negotiatiors
The bled dry of Calcutta
The innocents slaughtered in Bologna
Heaven help you if you come out disagreeing
You'll be clutched tight in our embrace
We are invincible because we are the conquered
Invulnerable because already dead
We laugh at your missiles
Sit down and bargain
Until your tongues are dry
If the havoc and the shame continue
We'll drown you in our putrefaction
Primo Levi
14th January 1985
Poem published by Faber & Faber Ltd.
The holy bible
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yes
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
You can buy her, you can buy her
This one's here, this one's here, this one's here and this one's here
Ev'rything's for sale
For sale? dumb cunt's same dumb questions
Oh virgins? listen, all virgins are liars honey
And I don't know what I'm scared of or what I even enjoy
Dulling, get money, but nothing turns out like you want it to
And in these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For $200 anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so tear off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want
I eat and I dress and I wash and I still can say thank you
Puking - shaking - sinking I still stand for old ladies
Can't shout, can't scream, hurt myself to get pain out
I 'T' them, 24:7, all year long
Purgatory's circle, drowning here, someone will always say yes
Funny place for the social, for the insects to start caring
Just an ambulance at the bottom of a cliff
In these plagued streets of pity you can by anything
For $200 anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so tear off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want, if you want
I eat and I dress and I wash and I can still say thank you
Puking - shaking - sinking I still stand for old ladies
Can't shout, can't scream, I hurt myself to get pain out
Power produces desire, the weak have none
There's no lust in this coma even for a fifty
Solitude, solitude, the 11th commandment
The only certain thing that is left about me
There is no part of my body that has not been used
Pity or pain, to show displeasure's shame
Everyone I've loved or hated always seems to leave
And in these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For $200 anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so tear off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want, if you want
Power produces desire, the weak have none
There's no lust in this coma even for a fifty
Solitude, solitude, the 11th commandment
Don't hurt, just obey, lie down, do as they say
May as well be heaven this hell, smells the same
These sunless afternoons I can't find myself
Two dollars you rub her tits
Three dollars you rub her ass
Five dollars you can play with her pussy
or you can lick her tits
Choice is yours
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
IfwhiteAmericatoldthetruthforonedayitsworldwouldfallapart
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Next Thursday you're invited to watch Rising Tide's live coverage of a gala
tribute in salute to Ronald Reagan. Host Haley Barbour joins special guest
lady Margaret Thatcher in celebrating the former president's 83 birthday.
Ticket's are 1000 Dollars a plate but you can see the event free on GOP TV.
Images of perfection, suntan and napalm
Grenada - Haiti - Poland - Nicaragua
Who shall we choose for our morality
I'm thinking right now of Hollywood tragedy
Big mac: smack: phoenix r: please smile y'all
Cuba, Mexico can't cauterize our discipline
Your idols speak so much of the abyss
Yet your morals only run as deep as the surface
Cool - groovy - morning - fine
Tipper Gore was a friend of mine
I love a free country
The stars and stripes and an apple for mommy
Conservative say there ain't no black in the union jack
Democrat say there ain't enough white in the stars and stripes
Compton - Harlem - a pimp fucked a priest
The white man has just found a new moral saviour
Vital stats - how white was their skin
Unimportant - just another inner-city drive-by thing
Morning - fine - serve your first coffee of the day
Real privilege, it will take your problems all away
Number one - the best - no excuse from me
I am here to serve the moral majority
Cool - groovy - morning - fine
Tipper Gore was a friend of mine
I love a free country
The stars and stripes and an apple for mommy
Zapruder the first to masturbate
The world's first taste of crucified grace
And we say there's not enough black in the union jack
And we say there's too much white in the stars and stripes
Fuck the Brady bill
Fuck the Brady bill
If God made man they say
Sam Colt made him equal
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Of Walking Abortion
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/ Sean Moore)
I knew that someday I was gonna die
And I knew before I died
Two things would happen to me
That number one: I would regret my entire life
And number two: I would want to live my life over again
Life is lead weights, pendulum died
Pure or lost, spectator or crucified
Recognised truth acedia's blackest hole
Junkies winos whores the nation's moral suicide
Loser - liar - fake or phoney
No one cares, everyone is guilty
Fucked up - dunno why - you poor little boy
We are all of walking abortions
Shalom shalom we all love our children
We all are of walking abortions
Shalom shalom there are no horizons
Mussolini hangs from a butcher's hook
Hitler reprised in the worm of your soul
Horthy's corpse screened to a million
Tisu revived, the horror of a bullfight
Fragments of uniforms, open black ruins
A moral conscience - you've no wounds to show
So wash your car in your 'X' baseball shoes
We are all of walking abortions
Shalom shalom we all love our children
We all are of walking abortions
Shalom shalom there are no horizons
Little people in little houses
Like maggots small blind and worthless
The massacred innocent blood stains us all
Who's responsible - you fucking are
Who's responsible - you fucking are
Who's responsible - you fucking are
Who's responsible - you fucking are
Who's responsible
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
She Is Suffering
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Beauty finds refuge in herself
Lovers wrapped inside each others lies
Beauty is such a terrible thing
She is suffering yet more than death
She is suffering
She sucks you deeper in
She is suffering
You exist within her shadow
Beauty she is scarred into man's soul
A flower attracting lust, vice and sin
A vine that can strangle life from a tree
Carrion, surrounding, picking on leaves
She is suffering
She sucks you deeper in
She is suffering
You exist within her shadow
Beauty she poisons unfaithful all
Stifled, her touch is leprous and pale
The less she gives the more you need her
No thoughts to forget when we were children
She is suffering
She sucks you deeper in
She is suffering
Nature's lukewarm pleasure
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Archives Of Pain
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
I wonder who you think you are
You damn well think you're God or something
God give life, God taketh it away, not you
I think you are the Devil itself
If hospitals cure
Then prisons must bring their pain
Don't be ashamed to slaughter
The centre of humanity is cruelty
There is never redemption
Any fool can regret yesterday
Nail it to the House of Lords
You will be buried in the same box as a killer, as a killer, as a killer
A drained white body hangs from the gallows
Is more righteous than Hindley's crotchet lectures
Pain not penance, forget martyrs, remember victims
The weak die young and right now we crouch to make them strong
Kill Yeltsin, who's saying?
Zhirinovsky, Le Pen,
Hindley and Brady, Ireland, Allit, Sutcliffe,
Dahmer, Nielson, Yoshinori Ueda,
Blanche and Pickles, Amin, Milosovic
Give them respect they deserve
Give them the respect they deserve
Give them the respect they deserve
Give them the respect they deserve
Execution needed
A bloody vessel for your peace
If man makes death then death makes man
Tear the torso with horses and chains
killers view themselves like they view the world, they pick at the holes
Not punish less, rise the pain
Sterilise rapists, all I preach is extinction
Kill Yeltsin, who's saying?
Zhirinovsky, Le Pen,
Hindley and Brady, Ireland, Allit, Sutcliffe,
Dahmer, Nielson, Yoshinori Ueda,
Blanche and Pickles, Amin, Milosovic
Give them respect they deserve
Give them the respect they deserve
Give them the respect they deserve
Give them the respect they d e s e r v e
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Revol
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Mr. Lenin - awaken the boy
Mr. Stalin - bi-sexual epoch
Kruschev - self love in his mirrors
Brezhnev - married into group sex
Gorbachev - celibate self importance
Yeltsin - failure is his own impotence
Revol revol
Revol revol
Lebensraum kulturkampf
Raus raus
Fila fila
Napoleon - childhood sweethearts
Chamberlain - you see God in you
Trotsky - honeymoon - serenade the naked
Che Guevara - you're all target now
Pol Pot - withdrawn traces bye bye
Farrakhan - alimony alimony
Revol revol
Revol revol
Lebensraum kulturkampf
Raus raus
Fila fila
Revol revol
Revol revol
Lebensraum kulturkampf
Raus raus
Fila fila
Revol
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
4st. 7lbs.
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
I eat too much to die
And not enough to stay alive
I'm sitting in the middle waiting
Days since I last pissed
Cheeks sunken and despaired
So gorgeous sunk to six stone
Lose my only remaining home
See my third rib appear
A week later all my flesh disappears
Stretching taut, cling-film on bone
I'm getting better
Karen says I've reached my target weight
Kate and Emma and Kristin know it's fake
Problem is diet's not a big enough word
I wanna be so skinny that I rot from view
I want to walk in the snow
And not leave a footprint
I want to walk in the snow
And not soil its purity
Stomach collapsed at five
Lift up my skirt my sex is gone
Naked and lovely and 5st. 2
May I bud and never flower
My vision's getting blurred
But I can see my ribs and I feel fine
My hands are trembling stalks
And I can feel my breasts are sinking
Mother trys to choke me with roast beef
And sits savouring her sole Ryvitta
That's the way you're built my father said
But I can change, my cocoon shedding
I want to walk in the snow
And not leave a footprint
I want to walk in the snow
And not soil its purity
Kate and Kristin and Kit Kat
All things I like looking at
Too weak to fuss, too weak to die
Choice is skeletal in everybody's life
I choose my choice, I starve to frenzy
Hunger soon passes and sickness soon tires
Legs bend, stockinged I am Twiggy
And I don't mind the horror that surrounds me
Self-worth scatters, self-esteem's a bore
I long since moved to a higher plateau
This disipline's so rare so please applaud
Just look at the fat scum who pamper me so
Yeh 4st. 7, an epilogue of youth
Such beautiful dignity in self-abuse
I've finally come to understand life
Through staring blankly at my navel
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mausoleum
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Wherever you go I will be carcass
Whatever you see will be rotting flesh
Humanity recovered glittering etiquette
Answers her crimes with Mausoleum rent
Regained your self-control
And regained your self-esteem
And blind your success inspires
And analyse, despise and scrutinise
Never knowing what you hoped for
And safe and warm but life is so silent
For the victims who have no speech
In their shapeless guilty remorse
Obliterates your meaning
Obliterates your meaning
Obliterates your meaning
Your meaning, your meaning
No birds - no birds
The sky is swollen black
No birds - no birds
Holy mass of dead insect
Come and walk down memory lane
No one sees a thing but they can pretend
Life eternal scorched grass and trees
For your love nature has haemorrhaged
Regained your self-control
And regained your self-esteem
And blind your success inspires
And analyse, despise and scrutinise
Never knowing what you hoped for
And safe and warm but life is so silent
For the victims who have no speech
In their shapeless guilty remorse
Obliterates your meaning
Obliterates your meaning
Obliterates your meaning
Your meaning, your meaning
No birds - no birds
The sky is swollen black
No birds - no birds
Holy mass of dead insect
I wanted to rub the human face in it's own vomit... and force it to look in
the mirror
And life can be as important as death
But so mediocre when there's no air, no light and no hope
Prejudice burns brighter when it's all we have to burn
The world lances youth's lamb-like winter, winter
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Faster
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
I hate purity
Hate goodness
I don't want virtue to exist anywhere
I want everyone corrupt
I am an architect, they call me a butcher
I am a pioneer, they call me primitive
I am purity, they call me perverted
Holding you but I only miss these things when they leave
I am idiot drug hive, the virgin, the tattered and the torn
Life is for the cold made warm and they are just lizards
Self-disgust is self-obsession honey and I do as I please
A morality obedient, only to the cleansed repented
I am stronger than Mensa, Miller and Mailer
I spat out Plath and Pinter
I am all the things that you regret
A truth that washes that learnt how to spell
The first time you see yourself naked you cry
Soft skin now acne, foul breath, so broken
He loves me truly this mute solitude I'm draining
I know I believe in nothing but it is my nothing
Sleep can't hide the thoughts splitting through my mind
Shadows aren't clean, false mirrors too many people awake
If you stand up like a nail then you will be knocked down
I've been too honest with myself I should have lied like everybody else
I am stronger than Mensa, Miller and Mailer
I spat out Plath and Pinter
I am all the things that you regret
A truth that washes that learnt how to spell, learnt to spell
So damn easy to cave in, man kills everything
So damn easy to cave in, man kills everything
So damn easy to cave in, man kills everything
So damn easy to cave in, man kills everything
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
This Is Yesterday
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Do not listen to a word I say
Just listen to what I can keep silent
The only way to gain approval
Is by exploiting the very thing that cheapens me
And I stare at the sky
And it leaves me blind
I close my eyes
And this is yesterday
Someone somewhere soon will take care of you
I repent, I'm sorry, everything is falling apart
Houses as ruins and gardens as weeds
Why do anything when you can forget everything
And I stare at the sky
And it leaves me blind
I close my eyes
And this is yesterday
I stare at the sky
And it leaves me blind
I close my eyes
And this is yesterday
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Die In The Summertime
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Scratch my leg with a rusty nail, sadly it heals
Colour my hair but the dye grows out
I can't seem to stay a fixed ideal
Childhood pictures redeem, clean and so serene
See myself without ruining lines
Whole days throwing sticks into streams
I have crawled so far sideways
I recognise dim traces of creation
I wanna die, die in the summertime, I wanna die
The hole in my life even stains the soil
My heart shrinks to barely a pulse
A tiny animal curled into a quarter circle
If you really care wash the feet of a beggar
I have crawled so far sideways
I recognise dim traces of creation
I wanna die, die in the summertime, I wanna die
I have crawled so far sideways
I recognise dim traces of creation
I wanna die, die in the summertime, I wanna die
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Intense Humming Of Evil
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
The court has come. The court of the Nations and into the courtroom will
come the martyrs of Majdanek and Oswiecim. From the ditch of Kerch the dead
will rise, they will arise from the graves, they will arise from flames
bringing with them the acrid smoke and the deathly odour of scorched
markings. And the children they too will come, stern and merciless. The
butchers had no pity on them. "They are the victims" judged the butchers.
Today the tear of a child is the judge, the grief of a mother is the
prosecutor.
You were what you were
Clean cut, unbecoming
Recreation for the masses
You always mistook fists for flowers
Welcome welcome soldier smiling
Funeral march for agony's last edge
6 Million screaming souls
Maybe misery - maybe nothing at all
Lives that wouldn't have changed a thing
Never counted - never mattered - never be
Arbeit macht frei
Transports of invalids
Hartheim Castle breathes us in
In block 5 we worship malaria
Lagerstrasse, poplar trees
Beauty lost, dignity gone
Rascher surveys us butcher bacteria
Welcome welcome soldier smiling
Soon infected, nails broken, hunger's a word
6 Million screaming souls
Maybe misery - maybe nothing at all
Lives that wouldn't have changed a thing
Never counted - never mattered - never be
Drink it away, every tear is false
Churchill no different
Wished the workers bled to a machine
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
P.C.P.
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Teacher starve your child, P.C. approved
As long as the right words are used
Systemised atrocity ignored
As long as bi-lingual signs on view
Ten foot sign in Oxford Street
Be pure - be vigilant - behave
Grey not neon, grey not real
Life bleeds, death is your birthright
P.C. she speaks impotent, sterile, naive, blind, atheist, sadist,
stiff-upper lip, first principle of her silence, of her silence
PCP - a P.C. police victory
PCP - a P.C. pyrrhic victory
When I was young P.C. meant Police Constable
Nowadays I can't seem to tell the difference
Liposuction for your bad mouth boy
Cut out your tongue, effigies are sold
Words discoloured, bow to the bland
Heal yourself with sinner's salt
Doctors arrested for euthanasia
Kill smokers through blind vanity
If you're fat don't get ill
Europe's gravestone carved in plastic
P.C. she says inoculate, hallucinate, beware Shakespeare, bring fresh air,
king cigarette snuffed out by her midgets, by her midgets
PCP - a P.C. police victory
PCP - a P.C. pyrrhic victory
When I was young P.C. meant Police Constable
Nowadays I can't seem to tell the difference
P.C. caresses bigots and big brother, read Liviticus, learnt censorship,
pro-life equals anti-choice, to be scared of, of feathers
PCP - a P.C. police victory
PCP - a P.C. pyrrhic victory
When I was young P.C. meant Police Constable
Nowadays I can't seem to tell the difference
Lawyers before love, surrogate sex
This land bows down to
Yours, unconditional love and hate
Pass the prozac, designer amnesiac
227 Lears and I can't remember the first line...
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
Everything must go
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elvis Impersonator: Blackpool Pier
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
20ft. high on Blackpool promenade
Fake royalty second hand sequin facade
Limited face paint and dyed black quiff
Overweight and out of date
20ft. high on Blackpool promenade
Fake royalty second hand sequin facade
Limited face paint and dyed black quiff
Overweight and out of date
Oh well
American trilogy in Lancashire Pottery
American trilogy in Lancashire Pottery
Is so fucking funny, don't you know
Is so fucking funny, don't you know
All American trilogy in used up cars and bottled beer
All American trilogy the futures dead, fundamentally
It's so fucking funny, it's absurd
It's so fucking funny, it's absurd
20ft. high on Blackpool promenade.
I wish I was in Dixie
Hooray! Hooray!
In Dixie Land, I'll take my stand
To live and die in Dixie
(Excerpt taken from the song 'Dixie' by Daniel D. Emmett [1859])
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
A Design For Life
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
Libraries gave us power
Then work came and made us free
What price now for a shallow piece of dignity
I wish I had a bottle
Right here in my dirty face to wear the scars
To show from where I came
We don't talk about love we only want to get drunk
And we are not allowed to spend
As we are told that this is the end
A design for life
A design for life
A design for life
A design for life
I wish I had a bottle
Right here in my pretty face to wear the scars
To show from where I came
We don't talk about love we only want to get drunk
And we are not allowed to spend
As we are told that this is the end
A design for life
A design for life
A design for life
A design for life
We don't talk about love we only want to get drunk
And we are not allowed to spend
As we are told that this is the end
A design for life
A design for life
A design for life
A design for...
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kevin Carter
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore/Nicky Wire; Lyrics: Richey James)
Hi Time magazine hi Pulitzer Prize
Tribal scars in Technicolor
Bang bang club AK 47 hour
Kevin Carter
Hi Time magazine hi Pulitzer Prize
Vulture stalked white piped lie forever
Wasted your life in black and white
Kevin Carter
Kevin Carter
Kevin Carter
Kevin Carter
Kevin Carter
Kevin Carter
Kevin Carter
The elephant is so ugly he sleeps his head
Machetes his bed Kevin Carter kaffir lover forever
Click click click click click
Click himself under
Kevin Carter
Kevin Carter
Kevin Carter
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Enola/Alone
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
The Statue of Liberty looks so solemn on the tv
100% risk of stepping outside
Every second too precious to try
My heart aches for enola
From my birth a rellik a killer
But all I want to do is live
No matter how miserable it is
Please sing to me a song enola/alone
Please take me on home enola/alone
I walk in the grass and I feel some peace at last
I walk on the beach and for once I feel some ease
I'll take a picture of you
To remember how good you looked
Like memory it has disappeared
Naked and lonely with my fears
Please sing to me a song enola/alone
Please take me on home enola/alone
Please, please sing to me a song enola/alone
Please take me on home enola/alone
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everything Must Go
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
Shed some skin for the fear within
Is starting to hurt me with everything
Freed from the memory
Escape from our history, history
And I just hope that you can forgive us
But everything must go
And if you need an explanation
Then everything must go
I look to the future it makes me cry
But it seems too real to tell you why
Freed from the century
With nothing but memory, memory
And I just hope that you can forgive us
But everything must go
And if you need an explanation
Then everything must go
Freed us eventually just need to be happy, happy
And I just hope that you can forgive us
But everything must go
And if you need an explanation
Then everything must go
And I just hope that you can forgive us
But everything must go
And if you need an explanation, -nation
Then everything must go
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore/Nicky Wire; Lyrics: Richey James)
You have your very own number
They dress your cage in its nature
Once you roared now you just grunt lame
Pace around pathetic pound games
Wanna get out won't miss you sensaround
To carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks
Wanna get out here you're bred dead quick
For the outside,
The small black flowers that grow in the sky
They drag sticks along your walls
Harvest your ovaries dead mothers crawl
Here comes warden, Christ, temple, elder
Environment not yours you see through it all
Wanna get out won't miss you sensaround
To carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks
Wanna get out here you're bred dead quick
For the outside,
The small black flowers that grow in the sky
Here chewing your tail is joy
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Girl Who Wanted To Be God
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
There are no sunsets just silence
You could see that she was true and faithless
But see through the future and forget all the lies
Black out the words for the blind have eyes
I am the girl who wanted to be God
I am the girl who wanted to be God
There are times when you feel hopeless
Just for once for no-one else we are blameless
The dawn is still breaking its heaven is so high
She told the truth, told the truth and then she lied
I am the girl who wanted to be God
I am the girl who wanted to be God
Hold me she said love me to death
I am the girl who wanted to be God
I am the girl who wanted to be God
I am the girl who wanted to be God
I am the girl who wanted to be God
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Removables
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore/Nicky Wire; Lyrics: Richey James)
Conscience binds you in chains
Trail by stone hammer and nails
No-one made the holes but me
Misery mourns to be devoured
Killed God blood soiled unclean again
Killed God blood soiled skin dead again
Again everywhere again
All removables, all transitory
All removables, passing always
All removables, all transitory
All removables, passing always
Never grown preserved gently
A bronze moth dies easily
Unknown to others weak to me
Broken hands never ending
Aimless rut of my own perception
Numbly waiting for voices to tell me
For voices to tell me
All removables, all transitory
All removables, passing always
All removables, all transitory
All removables, passing always
All removables, all transitory
All removables, passing always
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Australia
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
I don't know if I'm tired and I don't know if I'm ill
My cheeks are turning yellow
I think I'll take another pill
Praying for the wave to come now
It must be for the fifteenth time
I've been here for much too long
This is the past that's mine
I want to fly and run till it hurts
Sleep for a while and speak no words in Australia
I want to fly and run till it hurts
Sleep for a while and speak no words in Australia
In Australia
Praying for the wave to come now
It must be for the very last time
It's twelve o'clock till midnight
There must be someone to blame
I want to fly and run till it hurts
Sleep for a while and speak no words in Australia
I want to fly and run till it hurts
Sleep for a while and speak no words in Australia
In Australia
Australia, in Australia
I want to fly and run till it hurts
Sleep for a while and speak no words in Australia
In Australia
In Australia
In Australia
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Interiors (Song For Willem de Kooning)
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
Who sees the interiors like young Willem once did
Your beautiful triangle of distortion
Now you seem to forget it so much
Who sees the interiors like young Willem once did
Say you can remember say where is the tomorrow
Say where you're coming from
Say what you have left us
Are we too tired to try and understand
That nothing is nothing on that we depend
Take my hand together and we will cry
It really makes no difference
To what we see inside to what we see inside
Who sees the interiors like young Willem once did
A beautiful landscape of your nation
Another era is not forthcoming
Who sees the interiors like young Willem once did
Say you can remember say where is the tomorrow
Say where you're coming from
Say what you have left us
Are we too tired to try and understand
That nothing is nothing on that we depend
Take my hand together and we will cry
It really makes no difference
To what you see inside
What you see inside
Say you can remember say where is the tomorrow
Say where you're coming from
Say what you have
Are we too tired to try and understand
That nothing is nothing on that we depend
Take my hand together and we will cry
It really makes no difference
To what you see inside to what you see inside
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Further Away
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
The further away I get from you
The harder it gets for everyone else, for everyone else
The happier I am when I'm with you
The harder it gets when I am alone, when I am alone
The harder I try to learn something from you
Further away
Further away feel it fade into your childhood further away
Further away feel dazed and misunderstood
Further away
The stiller the oxygen the harder you breathe
The draining away just like an old man's dream
Just like an old man's dream
The simpler the answer the harder it can get
The circular landscape comes back only with regret
Only with regret
The more estranged I feel from my youth further away
Further away feel it fade into your childhood further away
Further away feel dazed and misunderstood
Further away
Further away feel it fade into your childhood further away
Further away feel dazed and misunderstood
Further away
Further away
Further away
Further away
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
No Surface All Feeling
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
Embarrassed possessed and so uncivilised
Just take a look at the whites of my eyes
See me now and I will apologise
For me for you we knew they were lies
It makes me angry ashamed but really alive
It may have worked but at what price
What's the point in always looking back
When all you see is more and more junk
It was no surface but all feeling
Maybe at the time it felt like dreaming
Maybe richer maybe wiser
Seems so easy to not go too far
Beg me to stop hate my face I know
They tell me forever just to go
Just one thing before I get to sleep
Nothing here but the stains on my teeth
No not blood just liquid from you
I only wish it was the truth
Feel the guilt of a sinner
Feel the cold of a winter
It was no surface but all feeling
Maybe at the time it felt like dreaming
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
This is my truth, tell me yours
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Everlasting
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
The gap that grows between our lives
The gap our parents never had
Stop those thoughts control your mind
Replace the things that you despise
Oh you're old I hear you say
It doesn't mean that I don't care
I don't believe in it anymore
Pathetic acts for a worthless cause
In the beginning when we were winning
When our smiles were genuine
In the beginning when we were winning
When our smiles were genuine
But now unforgiven the everlasting
Everlasting
The world is full of refugees
They're just like you and just like me
But as people we have a choice
To end the void with all its force
So don't forget or don't pretend
It's all the same now in the end
It was set in a different life
Destroys my days and haunts my nights?
In the beginning when we were winning
When our smiles were genuine
In the beginning when we were winning
When our smiles were genuine
But now unforgiving the everlasting
Everlasting
In the beginning when we were winning
When our smiles were genuine
In the beginning when we were winning
When our smiles were genuine
Now unforgiving, the everlasting
Everlasting
But now unforgiving, the everlasting
Everlasting
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
The future teaches you to be alone
The present to be afraid and cold
So if I can shoot rabbits
Then I can shoot fascists
Bullets for your brain today
But we'll forget it all again
Monuments put from pen to paper
Turns me into a gutless wonder
And if you tolerate this
Then your children will be next
And if you tolerate this
Then your children will be next
Will be next
Will be next
Will be next
Gravity keeps my head down
Or is it maybe shame
At being so young and being so vain
Holes in your head today
But I'm a pacifist
I've walked La Ramblas
But not with real intent
And if you tolerate this
Then your children will be next
And if you tolerate this
Then your children will be next
Will be next
Will be next
Will be next
Will be next
And on the street tonight an old man plays
With newspaper cuttings of his glory days
And if you tolerate this
Then your children will be next
And if you tolerate this
Then your children will be next
Will be next
Will be next
Will be next
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
You Stole The Sun From My Heart
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Drinking - water to stay thin
Or is it to purify
I love you all the same
But there's no - no real truce with my fury
You don't have to believe me
I love you all the same
But you stole the sun from my heart
You stole the sun from my heart
You stole the sun from my heart
You stole the sun from
You stole the sun from
You have - broken through my armour
And I don't have an answer
I love you all the same
I paint - the things I want to see
But it don't come easy
I love you all the same
But you stole the sun from my heart
You stole the sun from my heart
You stole the sun from my heart
You stole the sun from
You stole the sun from
Think I'm - I'm lost among the undergrowth
So much so I woke up
I love you all the same
But you stole the sun from my heart
You stole the sun from my
You stole the sun from my heart
You stole the sun from
You stole the sun from
I have - I've got to stop smiling
It gives the wrong impression
I love you all the same
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ready For Drowning
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Here's a true story
Said someone to me yesterday
Said he'd heard it in a taxi
Must have had him at my mercy
Drown that poor thing
Put it out of its misery
Condemn it to its future
Deny its history
Deny its history
So where are we going
We're not ready for drowning
So where are we going
We're not ready for drowning
Look through my venetian blinds
Dusting the past off of my mind
Seeing orange everywhere
I'd go to Patagonia
But it's harder there
I'll do anything to prove I care
Fascinated by good
Destroyed by evil
What is there to believe in
So where are we going
We're not ready for drowning
So where are we going
We're not ready for drowning
I will bring the whole edifice down on their unworthy heads
So where are we going
We're not ready for drowning
So where are we going
We are not waving we're drowning
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tsunami
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
For you my dear sister
Holding onto me forever
Disco dancing with the rapists
Your only crime is silence
Can't work at this anymore
Can't move I want to stay at home
Tied up to all these crutches
Never far from your hands
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Can't speak, can't think, won't talk, won't walk
Doctors tells me that I'm cynical
I tell them that it must be chemical
So what am I doing girl
Cry into my drink I disappear
Eyes for teeth grating over me
Bring down the shadows of my mind
Sleep and breathe under our sheets
Inhale the anxiety in - between, in - between, in - between, in - between
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Through September under the weather
In - between, in - between, in - between, in - between
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Take the GI's I will have the spies
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
My Little Empire
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
My little empire
Has risen and it's set
My little empire
Is as good as it can get
My little empire
Is coming around
My little empire
It don't make a sound
My royalty it does not exist
It is extinct for the eye to see
My ideology it is dead and gone
Almost forgotten for the eye to see
My little empire
I'm sick of being sick
My little empire
I'm tired of being tired
My little empire
I'm bored of being bored
My little empire
I'm happy being sad
All of my sins are attempts to fill the voids
All of my voids they are filled with sin
All of my demons they are kept within
And all my violence it does not exist
My little empire
I'm happy being sad
My little empire
I'm fucked with being fucked
My little empire
I'm done with being dumb
My little empire
I'm happy being sad
Happy being sad
Happy being sad
Happy being sad
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm Not Working
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Petryfied for the millionth time
Slowly my soul evaporates
No parachutes no dismal clouds
Just this fucking space
I know what's coming
I'm not working
I know what's coming
I'm not working
Sweating out intelligence
Like I don't know what it is
Clinging to the microwaves
And singing with the soundwaves
I know what's coming
I'm not working
I know what's coming
I'm not working
Delerium on helium
I am my own experience
I know what's coming
I'm not working
I know what's coming
I'm not working
I'm not working
I'm not working
I'm not working
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
You're Tender And You're Tired
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
You're so fragile tonight
Been up hurting all night
It's not trivial like they think
Yes you're desperate and you're hurt
Thought about it so many times
Too afraid to open your eyes
To see the sadness that's inside
Just sit back in and stop time
You're tender and you're tired
You can't be bothered to decide
Whether you live or die
Or just forget about your life
But it's too late to be real
No time to be strong enough
Just time to leave it all behind
Memory has become pain
Rebuild the void with flowers
Sad eyed destruction build around sand and sea
Yes you can build your yourself around
Build yourself around me, yourself around me
You're tender and you're tired
You can't be bothered to decide
Whether you live or die
Or just forget about your life
You're tender and you're tired
You can't be bothered to decide
Whether you live or die
Or just forget about your life
You're tender and you're tired
You can't be bothered to decide
Whether you live or die
Or just forget about your life
You're tender and you're tired
You can't be bothered to decide
Whether you live or die
Or just forget about your life
Drift away and die
Never say goodbye
Drift away and die
Never say goodbye
Drift away and die
Never say goodbye
Drift away and die
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Born A Girl
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Do I look good for you tonight
Will you accuse me as I hide
Behind these layers of disguise
And the mirrors of my own happiness
I've loved the freedom of being inside
Need a new start and a different time
Something grows in the space between me
And it's twisting and changing this fragile body
And I wish I had been born a girl
Instead of what I am
Yes I wish I had been born a girl
And not this mess of a man
And not this mess of a man
And not this mess of a man
The censorship of my skin
Is screaming inside and from within
There's no room in this world for a girl like me
No place around there where I fit in
And I wish I had been born a girl
Instead of what I am
Yes I wish I had been born a girl
And not this mess of a man
And not this mess of a man
And not this mess of a man
And not this mess of a man
And not this mess of a man
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Be Natural
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Been natural
For once in my life
Now I'll have to swallow some pride
Know that I should never give advice
But it's too late now to say goodbye
Be natural
Don't want any friends
Be natural
Come on and hit me again
Be natural
I'm repeating myself
Be natural
Is there anything else
Starbright keep me safe - today and tonight
No water tastes like lemonade
Slowly slowly it starts to fade
Be natural
With me tonight
Be natural
Put your fists in my eyes
Be natural
So turn me to stone
Be natural
Just leave me alone
Grown up or backwards born
Into eternity and blackholes
Floating around up here on my own
Screaming at me forever unknown
Been natural
Been natural
Been natural
Been natural - is there anyone else
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Black Dog On My Shoulder
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
There's a black dog on my shoulder again
Licking my neck and saying she's my friend
Solitude the one thing that I really miss
Guess my life is a compromise
There's a black dog on my shoulder again
I'm playing with it but it's gone to my head
Like Carlito's way there are no exit signs
Freeze me there until I am numb
My mouth is so dry
My eyes are shut tight
There's a black dog a coming tonight
Black dog's a coming tonight
My dilemma but not my choice
Winston Churchill can you hear my voice
Melodrama there in my kitchen sink
Double vision the way it is
Am I coming home to you again
Or am I stupid just by design
Does it matter if you really ever know
This black dog is out of control
My mouth is so dry
My eyes are shut tight
There's a black dog a coming tonight
Black dog's a coming tonight
Am I coming home to you again
Or am I stupid just by design
Does it matter if you really ever know
This black dog is out of control
My mouth is so dry
My eyes are shut tight
There's a black dog a coming tonight
Black dog's a coming tonight
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nobody Loved You
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
What's your story baby
No control of what I am saying
Winter leaves still make me believe
No vendettas, just a cherry blossom tree
Never had the chance to take you home
Now there's no reason just another tomorrow
You keep giving me your free airmiles
What would I give just for one of your smiles
Just for one of your smiles
Nobody loved you - nobody made you feel so alone
Nobody loved you - no no
Nobody loved you - nobody made you feel so alone
Nobody loved you - no no
Let me turn down all these lights
And sit with me then you can hold me tight
Give me some more of your carrier bags
And let me dream of a new autumn light
Tell me your story baby
What's your poison and what is your honey
You've stopped me hurting but so much disorder
Winter flowers did you ever forgive her
Did you ever forgive her
Nobody loved you - nobody made you feel so alone
Nobody loved you - no no
Cherry blossom tree - but at least you are free
Nobody loved you - like me
It's unreal now you're gone - but at least you belong
Nobody loved you - no - no
What's your story baby
No control of what I am saying
Winter leaves still make me believe
No vendettas, just a cherry blossom tree
Just a cherry blossom tree
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
S.Y.M.M.
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
The subtext of this song
I've thought about it for so long
But it's really not the sort of thing
That people want to hear us sing
The context of this song
Well I could go on and on
But it's still unfashionable
To believe in principles
South South Yorkshire - mass murderer
How can you sleep at night, sleep at night
South South Yorkshire - mass murderer
How can you sleep at night, sleep at night
The reason for this song
Well maybe it's a pointless one
But thank you Jimmy McGovern
For reminding me of what lives on
The ending for this song
Well I haven't really thought of one
There's nothing I could ever say
That could really take the pain away
South South Yorkshire - mass murderer
How can you sleep at night, sleep at night
South South Yorkshire - mass murderer
How can you sleep at night, sleep at night
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
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singelbaksidor etc.
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A Vision Of Dead Desire (B-sida på "You love us")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Primary prole MP judge general policeman
Figureheads sucked in as just another token
To sell your culture and tolerate another
Annihilation in the persuit of self-love corruption
Vision of dead desire - tune in reception control
Vision of dead desire - underclass coma zone
Don't pacify your life to suit dead law convention
White trash held up as just more gold chain icons
State fed lies charm empty eyes
Happy thoughts a unity death smile of acceptance
Vision of dead desire - mainline on a death fix
Vision of dead desire - bleed the thought of throwing bricks
Europe land, realise your thoughts
Kill all ruling class laws
© 1991 Sony Music Publishing
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Ain't Goin' Down (B-sida på "Slash'n'burn")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Praying that you'll fall down soon (fall soon)
And your guiltless sex will break in two (break in two)
We brought you sensitivity and you never knew
No, we ain't going down
No, we ain't going down
I get down to nothing and jumbled up again (up again)
Praying your injection is just too good to end (good to end)
When the summer's gone you know it's dead
No, we ain't going down
No, we ain't going down
No, we ain't going down
No, we ain't going down
No, we ain't going down
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Are Mothers Saints (B-sida på "Life's becoming a landslide")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
If piss is yellow then life must be grey
How come they smile when we throw it away
And if it is a colour then it must be sin
And you want to apologise but keep it in
Why worship a god when a mother is a saint
Why worship stone
They give life and take it back
Spit you out but understand
And when their arms are dead how do they sigh
As gentle as the winter that fades by
And some kind of angel appears in her eyes
Or is it just the devil screaming inside
Why give into useless devotion
Truth and beauty, love and hate, mother and God
They give life and take it back
Spit you out but understand
Stay silent when you want to shout
Give, give when we piss it away
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Black Garden (B-sida på "Everything must go")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
Glory glory, hallelujah
Our truth comes marching on
Swing, swing
There's a little part of me
There's a little part of you
Remember the feeling
Of a frozen embryo
There's a bigger part of me
There's a bigger part of you
Remember the place where
You don't want to go
Welcome into your own black garden
It's full of life but it's still too frightening
Can't open my eyes this whiteness blinds
All this whiteness blinds
Watch the swallows cloud the sky
Watch the swallows slowly die
I used to throw stones
But now I have none
Watch the swallows cloud the sky
Watch the swallows slowly die
I used to throw stones
But now I have none
Waiting to be bread in the black garden
Waiting to be muted and then chosen
White trash you're a swinger
Ugly to the end
Ugly to the end
Swing, swing
(Excerpt taken from the song 'The Battle Hymn of the Republic')
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
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Black Holes For The Young (B-sida på "The everlasting")
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Lots of sun for you young boy
Lots of sun for you today
Subsidise the opera forget coal
Sit around in the London smog
Cappuccino's amongst the fumes
Breathe it in and down the gym
Yes I'm on a witch hunt now
And paracetemol my only drug
You've got some black holes for the young
You won't feel it when it's gone
You've got some black holes for the young
You won't know when it's gone
When it's gone
No sun for you young boy
It will hurt your lily-white skin
Don't think it will hurt your mind
We'll be the ones who give you soul
Close enough to fill those holes
This tenderness slipping through my fingers
Sandy sandy feet - ice cream to sleep
No more feeling that you can feel
You've got some black holes for the young
You won't feel it when it's gone
You've got some black holes for the young
You won't know when it's gone
When it's gone
When it's gone
When it's gone
When it's gone
When it's gone
Gone
You've got some black holes for the young
You won't feel it when it's gone
You've got some black holes for the young
You won't know when it's gone
When it's gone
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
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Bored Out Of My Mind (B-sida på "Motorcycle emptiness")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
I'm... I'm feeling too awake
I'm... I'm tired of what I see
Everybody's dreaming running for the scream
The media's stinking drunk nothing is at stake
All the faces I love their skin as soft as leprosy
Words choked on my lies repeating love till they cry
All the faces I love their skin as soft as leprosy
I'm bored out of my mind I'm too stoned lazy to see
The sun... the sun is leaving me
I can't see it anymore
I tried everything to get along with you
The night's too lonesome when the heat doesn't care
All the faces I love their skin as soft as leprosy
Words choked on my lies repeating love till they cry
All the faces I love their skin as soft as leprosy
I'm bored out of my mind I'm too stoned lazy to see
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
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Comfort Comes (B-sida på "Life's becoming a landslide")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Need someone to nurse me
Reach out for the first person I see
Comfort the helpless sole vanity
Caressing the broken heart of me
The difference between love and comfort
Is that comfort's more reliable and true
Brutal and mocking but always there
A crutch for enmity's saddest glare
I wish that someone would hold me
Wrap their arms around a shrinking somebody
Comfort comes and me till the mourning
Whispered words of sanctuary
The difference between love and comfort
Is that comfort's more reliable and true
Brutal and mocking but always there
A crutch for enmity's saddest glare
Is that comfort's more reliable and true
Brutal and mocking but always there
A crutch for enmity's saddest glare
Forgetting how I hate self pity blonde
Comfort comes and smoothes her over
Calloused hands turn a beautiful dress
Handcuffs now her pearl bracelets
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
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Dead Passive (B-sida på "Design for life")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
She's so passive but she's looking good
He's so passive but he's looking good
They are together but really they're apart
They are together but do not belong, but do not belong
Yes ladies and gentlemen
Let's fall asleep to a plastic lullaby
The ballad of Kate and Johnny
The ballad of Adam and Naomi
The ballad of Michael and Helena
The ballad is forever changing
She's so passive but happy in her way
He's so passive but happy in his way
They do nothing just sit and they pretend
They sit around and pray for it to end, pray for it to end
Yes ladies and gentlemen
Let's fall asleep to a plastic lullaby
The ballad of Kate and Johnny
The ballad of Adam and Naomi
The ballad of Hugh and Elizabeth
The ballad is forever changing
I'm so passive
A hopeless fucking mess
We're so passive
Do our bit for charity
From Bosnia to London
We do it all for free
We do it all for free
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
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Dead Trees and Traffic Islands (B-sida på "Design for life")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
Paralysis through analysis
Yellow moral unclean decay
Silence begins to hurt me now
The sunshine it fades away
Syllables have now disappeared
How could this happen to me
How could this happen to me
But now... I feel so weak
Dead trees and traffic islands never meet
Is this... is this my defeat
This purgatory for beginners
Dead trees and traffic islands
Tolerance slips away
Body shrugs and says hello once more
Paint the walls within my mind
Clandestine brain finished period
Lips turn grey inside turns out
I show little defence
I show little defence
But now... I feel so weak
Dead trees and traffic islands never meet
Is this... is this my defeat
This purgatory for beginners
Dead trees and traffic islands
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
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Dead Yankee Drawl (B-sida på "Little baby nothing")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Bill and Ted and Waynes World drawl
Just another dull fucking bore
Vietnams cool now and even Superman's believed
Hussein in power as the media war retreats
Suck your honey until you choke
You are a mechanism of social control
Multi-national aim of one world culture
Turning one dollar into another and another
Dead Yankee Drawl hey we got your beat
Dead Yankee Drawl hey we love Oscar
Smothering injustice seen through starving eyes
Tearing down a forest just to earn a buck
Killed off literature for sex and violence
Fed a generation the equivalent of silence
Dragged Jack down to self same bigotry
Passive acceptance of a consumer society
Fake sentiments tying up contracts
Making idols of guitars and haircuts
Multi-national aim of one world culture
Turning one dollar into another and another
Dead Yankee Drawl hey we got your beat
Dead Yankee Drawl hey we love Oscar
Smothering injustice seen through starving eyes
Burning down a forest just to earn a buck
Dead Yankee Drawl hey we got your beat
Dead Yankee Drawl hey we love Oscar
Smothering injustice seen through Red Indian eyes
Sideway's walk of some Hollywood lies
Let's go down to Greenwich Village and desecrate
The Noraid slogans that justify 6 counties hate
Let's go down Redondo Beach and wax body company
Cos reality for T.V. is Disney not King, Rodney
Let's go to Indiana Youth Centre quickly
Tysons money ain't as free as Junior Kennedys
Yankee
Dead Yankee
Dead Yankee
Dead Yankee Drawl
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing
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Democracy Coma (B-sida på "Love's sweet exile" samt med på USA-utgåvan av "GT")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Sovereign fingers scrape our lives until we are bought
Screaming comatose with blackboard chalk
Siphoned minds suck a wallet full of love
Spitting out a language I don't wanna talk
Mother of the free she said that we'd breathe
Mother of the free but we just scream
To me the coronation's another auto-da-fe
Taught in schools to see her as a glorious being
I don't see happy homes but the Belfast wall
In Walkman sounds hear Sony control
Mother of the free she said that we'd breathe
Mother of the free but we just scream
Mother of the free she said that we'd breathe
Mother of the free but we just scream
Parliament mother of United Nations
Mother of history's dead sun, dead suns
DNA of restriction and law
Death, famine, spectacle and war
Mother of the free she said that we'd breathe
Mother of the free but we just scream
Mother of the free she said that we'd breathe
Mother of the free but we just scream
In Walkman sounds hear Sony control
...and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,
whole intellects disgorged in total recall...
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
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Donkeys (B-sida på "Roses in the hospital")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Put some lipstick on
At least your lies will be pretty
A shadow on my face
And us donkeys wake up weary
Sweating and sickly
Donkey's don't allow their tears
No emotion never feel
And drown themselves in whatever
Find some meaning
Donkeys weight cracking a spire
Sweetness bent double
Whole days making polite
Never moving out of turn
Or ever trying to be natural
Those with silence inside
Eyes bare piss holes in the snow
Drained and burnt yellow
And sunk in self-pity
Jerusalem saw off
Donkeys are only left with lies
Are only left with lies
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
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First Republic (B-sida på "Kevin Carter")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
You are so alone
In Kensington Palace
We should be content
In these damp terraces
Thank you for this view
From our council estates
I hope you have really
Guillotined your own head
I crown myself, myself a king
And declare a first republic
We wanna play yes we wanna play
In the burnt out palace ruins
You once gave us war
Racism and slavery
Cut out all our tongues
And fucked our industry
Now you've revealed something
You're human after all this
But let's clap our hands
And fuck our dear princess
I crown myself, myself a king
And declare a first republic
We wanna play yes we wanna play
In the burnt out palace ruins
I crown myself, myself a king
And declare a first republic
We wanna play yes we wanna play
In the burnt out palace ruins
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing
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Hanging On (B-sida på "Everything must go")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
Hold me down
I don't ever want to see the day
When my time will come
Is it ever gonna end
I'm not here
Wish the last of the year
Where do we go now
Another blackout
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
I'm not real
But I'd like to have a chance to feel
Before we reach the time
Decide what now is right
I'm not here
Wish the last of the year
Where do we go now
Another blackout
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
Hanging on to nothing
And nothing and nothing is nothing
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
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Hibernation (B-sida på "From despair to where?")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
I got married 'cos you should
We both knew we should
You do at our age
This stage of our career
Things get tight
A ring helps get a mortgage
To move out of daddy's home
Get a bigger car
Easy access to the city
I can read the papers in peace
And laugh at the homeless
I know my friends criticize
But we get by OK
So what if there's no emotion
We can wake up anywhere
There's never a row
No time for a kiss
When you've got schedules to meet
Trivialities seem so cheap
This is above love
This is more than real
This is all there is
This is as good as it gets -
Intense morality parades
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
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Love Torn Us Under (B-sida på "She is suffering")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Heaven's weariness as you're climbing the walls
Asleep, I daydreamt I'd could change it all
Running for something too painful to face
Epitaph's torn into barefoot soled feet
Extasy's call in decay into night
Underneath hope she loves sanity (...?)
Wasting my time on the shackles of her love
A not complete love's torn us under
Love is dragging me under
Betray my other self
The lost hours are over
A gentlemen left me, I cataracts past life
Searching for something I'm unable to find
Too weak, too envious, sorrow's daily ride
I found too much grief in that I just turned ice
Memory can not choose where it wants to be
Love, sex, pity as mangles sheets
A tenderness declines in the mind
A not complete love's torn us under
Love is dragging me under
Betray my other self
The lost hours are over
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing
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Montana/Autumn/78 (B-sida på "If you tolerate this.....")
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Luddite lover
Forgiving father
Unhappy forever
Live it to where you can
Those skies must drive you wild
This earth around you
This silence around you
Be with the sky tonight
You've ruined more than you'll gain
Know what you mean - but not what you do
Nature will take care of itself
Your ego will destroy itself
Montana/Autumn/78
Your life into the future
Maybe forty years
A life worth saving or lonesome ever more
The nothingness of truth
Or everlasting youth
Ideology or the ultimate thrill
You've ruined more than you'll gain
Know what you mean - but not what you do
Nature will take care of itself
Your ego will destroy itself
Montana/Autumn/78
You've ruined more than you'll gain
Know what you mean - but not what you do
Nature will take care of itself
Your ego will destroy itself
Montana/Autumn/78
78
78
Montana
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
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Motown Junk (MSP:s tredje singel)
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Never ever wanted to be with you
The only thing you gave me was the boredom I suffocated in ooh
Adrift in cheap dreams don't stop the rain
Numbed out in piss towns just wanna dig their graves ooh
Motown, Motown junk
I laughed when Lennon got shot
Twenty-one years of living and nothing means anything to me
Motown junk a lifetime of slavery
Songs of love echo underclass betrayal
Stops your heart beating for 168 seconds
Stops your brain thinking for 168 seconds
Motown junk, Motown junk, Motown junk, Motown junk
I don't want 'cos I just get
All your slut heroes offer is a fear of the future ooh
Past made useless 'cos I'm dying now
Communal tyranny a jail that bleeds our wrists ooh
Motown, Motown junk
I laughed when Lennon got shot
Twenty-one years of living and nothing means anything to me
Motown junk a lifetime of slavery
Songs of love echo underclass betrayal
Stops your heart beating for 168 seconds
Stops your brain thinking for 168 seconds
Motown junk, Motown junk, Motown junk, Motown junk
Motown junk a lifetime of slavery
Songs of love echo underclass betrayal
Stops your heart beating for 168 seconds
Stops your brain thinking for 168 seconds
Motown junk, Motown junk, Motown junk, Motown junk
We live in urban hell, we destroy rock and roll
© 1991 Copyright Control
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Mr. Carbohydrate (B-sida på "Design for life")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
They call me Mr. Carbohydrate
It's the only thing I can digest
Xenophobia or general disinterest
I must catch up with all this stuff
They call me a boring fuck head
Say I might as well work in a bank
I tell them I wish I was
They tell me that I'm sick in the head
They say that I'm sick in my head
They call me Mr. Carbohydrate
They call me Mr. Inadequate
They call me Mr. Paranoia
They call me Mr. Hypochondria
Have you heard of Matthew Maynard?
He's my favourite cricketer
I would rather watch him play than pick up my guitar
Than play with my guitar
People tell me that I should get out more
But the TV is my best friend
Cynisism is the only thing that keeps me sane
The only thing that keeps me sane
They call me Mr. Carbohydrate
They call me Mr. Inadequate
They call me Mr. Paranoia
They call me Mr. Hypochondria
Sometimes I just stay in bed and think about the day
When I can retire, forgetting everything
I'll forget everything
Forget everything
Forever but not today
When I cannot, cannot say
No more yesterdays
No more yesterdays
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
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Never Want Again (B-sida på "Little baby nothing")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
I'm feeling sick with alcohol
I'm feeling numb with stupid pain
I smell death all around our name
I feel the snakes crawling upon my skin
Everywhere... everywhere is on its knees
I'm too scared and I'm too afraid... too afraid
We'll go down, we'll go down together
and meet a few of you in hell
Burn on by our side
Burn on by our side and never want again
I get told I should be happy
I got no rights on how I feel
I lost my language easily
I saw the rain bleaching my way
My gut gets sick of all its lies
Thrown all hope way outside - way outside
We'll go down, we'll go down together
and meet a few of you in hell
Burn on by our side
Burn on by our side and never want again
We'll go down, we'll go down together
and meet a few of you in hell
Burn on by our side
Burn on by our side and never want again
© 1992 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
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New Art Riot (MSP:s andra singel samt b-sida på "Faster")
(Nicky Wire/Richey James/James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Vintage aroma's and vintage ideals
Old men greying to a dying countrys needs
Waiting for a knighthood to while away the hours
Listen and learn now it's time to kill your betters
Museums are dead take a new art stance
Paint mass suicide on the aspiration diktat
Hospital closure kill more than car bombs ever will
But it saves money because people are expendable
You cold shoulder insurgents yet love arms dealers
Everybody's taking drugs because it makes governing easier
Museums are dead take a new art stance
Paint mass suicide on the aspiration diktat
Sell out the past and learn to obey
You spit out and douse a molotov cocktail
Revolution soon dies sold out for a pay rise
China, Russia, England, all washed up in power abuse
Terrorism is an excuse that the ruling class use
Wipe out aristocracy now kill, kill, kill, kill, kill
England makes judgements of old school propaganda
The only threat to heads is silenced by dumb pleasure
Museums are dead take a new art stance
Paint mass suicide on the aspiration diktat
© 1990
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Strip It Down (New art riot EP)
(Nicky Wire/Richey James/James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Ain't no fun at the government hall
Sucked back injustice sits nicely next to smiles
Paranoia at the heels of too much greed
Obedience an art form while the sad bleed
Success and love dictate while skin touches fashion
Consumerism beauty for cheap appeal
I don't wanna dance for people to watch
Smother my life in interest accounts
Outside life brings down genocide
And consumer self-hate leads to designer bullshit
Hate is art and we steal cars
Decaying flowers in the playground of the rich
You can launch sweetly and say nice things
But I ain't ever on the way up
My only way is down on disease that tries to suffocate
The pure ideals that turn to hate
Strip it down
© 1990
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Last Exit On Yesterday (New art riot EP)
(Nicky Wire/Richey James/James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Dance to the Valentine, anthems that kill
Valium veins and eyes that sink
Lying down I want, want a brainwash trip
Don't wanna wake next to your stretched skin
Your screaming so much that I feel sorry to breathe
I wanna feel cold and I wanna bleed your disease
Hold your head up and pray for the sun
But rain keeps pouring on and on
Loveless, aloneless, life that just impails
As backs break thorns dig deeper in
Your screaming so much that I feel sorry to breathe
I wanna feel cold and I wanna bleed your disease
Baby can't have her little bit of love
Cos it's wrapped up inside her lovers gut
Lazy fat executive seller
Sway to the sound of another dead lover
So dull and tired, of his pretty face
Makes the truth seem easy but you've lost
Laugh at the T.V. empty cell of life
Mundane exile it's not of your choice
© 1990
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Teenage 20/20 (New art riot EP)
(Nicky Wire/Richey James/James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
I wanna wake to a shot parade of wealth
And take a spray can to my useless vote
I don't like your city Dresden dance
I'm drowning in a manufactured ego-fuck
We're dead end dolls and nothing's moving
We're dead end dolls and nothing's moving
We're dead end dolls and nothing's moving
Speeding so lonely into wall after wall
teenage 20/20 beat the in-call
Sick to the stomach of our fingertip scrawl
All your rebellion corporation owned
We're dead end dolls and nothing's moving
We're dead end dolls and nothing's moving
We're dead end dolls and nothing's moving
We're dead end dolls and nothing's moving
We're dead end dolls and nothing's moving
We're dead end dolls and nothing's moving
© 1990
------------------------------------------------------------------------
No-one Knows What It's Like To Be Me (B-sida på "Everything must go")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
To all the people who've hurt me
To all the life that has left me
To all the longing that lost me
To all the future that scares me
To all the words that have drained me
To all the questions that bored me
To all the people that believed me
To all the money that blinded me
No-one knows what it's like to be me
No-one knows what it's like to be me
To all the skies that have reached for me
To all the oceans that drowned me
To all the rain that has soothed me
To all the sun that depressed me
To all the people who lived in fear
To all the life that is held so dear
To all the empty souls who still despair
I know it's the same for everyone
No-one knows what it's like to be me
No-one knows what it's like to be me
Doctor and dentist, housewife and thief
No-one knows what it's like to be me
No-one knows what it's like to be me
No-one knows what it's like to be me
Doctor and dentist, housewife and thief
No-one knows what it's like to be me
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
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Patrick Bateman (B-sida på "La tristesse durera")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Oh, say, can you see,
by the dawn's early light,
what so proudly we hailed,
at the twilight's last gleaming?
He's a real cool guy and he's a hero of mine
Travis, Rhinehart rolled into one cute son
Less than zero a grotesque nightmare
Subtlely disturbing like normal behaviour
I understand nothing and I cannot speak
I'd walk in the park but the trees are diseased
No sweetheart and I am too confused
I only love my watch and my snakeskin shoes
I feel so small in the supermarket queue
People seem to laugh at my choice of food
My personality is held together with Sellotape
A loose fit just like a numb junkies hate
I pretty my face with all this cream and stuff
Ugliness inside much harder to cover up
I lack the thought to care about politics
Just do what I like ain't that democratic
Genesis, Huey Lewis, Filofax, CD 5
A backdrop to discuss over expensive wine
Didn't even know when or why I should stop
I feel so stupid like a joke that belongs
I guess all psychos are made out of money
I cannot be saved as liberals keep telling me
I don't wanna be understood I just wanna kill
Out of blandness I am your everyday thrill
Patrick Bateman
We are babies crippled in Christ
Patrick Bateman
Therefore I must be God
I must, I must be God
I touched your lips but now I just paint
Surface reflection all I desired babe
I am melancholy, flower cutting through stone
I am a crime everybody has at home
Papers hate me but they need my behaviour
The dignity amongst Hollywood trivia
Escape is so cheap of alcohol and whores
Mines the sanity of exclusive gun laws
Art critics say porno's easily obscene
Late show retards Dice Clay is true poetry
They've never tried living underneath the water
That's real end of the century nausea
Patrick Bateman
We are babies crippled in Christ
Patrick Bateman
Therefore I must be God
I must, I must be God
Patrick Bateman
We are babies crippled in Christ
Patrick Bateman
I fucked God up the ass
I fucked God up the ass
Patrick Bateman
Patrick Bateman
Patrick Bateman
Patrick Bateman
I pledge allegiance to the flag
of the United States of America
and to the republic for which it stands.
One nation, under God, indivisible
with liberty and justice for all.
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing
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Prologue To History (B-sida på "If you tolerate this....")
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Were we the Kinnock factor
Am I talking private sector
Do I think I'm Shaun William Ryder
Or my former friend whose now undercover
He's gone and I'm no deserter
Perhaps I'm hard all the same
Today a poet who can't play guitar
Tomorrow Steve Ovett has injured his calf
Next year the world's greatest politician
Yesterday the boy who once had a mission
I don't want to be
A prologue to history
A prologue to histor...
So I water my plants with Evian
A brand new Dyson that is decadent
Read my papers and the business section
Checkout the tessas and the pensions
Call my friends and they're alright
So I pray for the safety of the night
Today a poet who can't play guitar
Tomorrow Steve Ovett has injured his calf
Next year the world's greatest politician
Yesterday the boy who once had a mission
I don't want to be
A prologue to history
A prologue to histor...
Remember ethnic cleansing in the highlands
No one says a thing in the middle of En-ger-land
I'm bruised fruit but still taste so nice
But if you look at me you better look twice
I'm talking rubbish to cover up the cracks
An empty vessel who can't make contact
Today a poet who can't play guitar
Tomorrow Phil Bennett's playing outside half
Next year the world's greatest politician
Yesterday the boy who once had a mission
I don't want to be
A prologue to history
A prologue to history
A prologue to history
A prologue
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
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R.P. McMurphy (B-sida på "Stay beautiful")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Three, four
Straight jacket your own beauty
Because it is just a breakdown away
From the gutter to the jewel
A symbol sold in investment days
Defenceless as the pages you burn
A baby drowning under a profit cure
Money bruises the skin at birth
I just wanna lie down in my bed
Make myself different from the rest
Use a thought to put myself to sleep
Collapsing in the fields where it feels free
Where it feels free
R.P. McMurphy
Na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na
No more pills and no more drugs
Na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na
No more pills and no more drugs oh
This country pisses debris
Like ugly people made pretty
Underneath cheap make up
Deformed, disguised mind decay
Buy, consume get more credit
Learn to serve a life sentence here
Style yourself in sterility
I just wanna lie down in my bed
Make myself different from the rest
Use a thought to put myself to sleep
Collapsing in the fields where it feels free
Where it feels free
R.P. McMurphy
Na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na
No more pills and no more drugs
Na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na
No more pills and no more drugs oh
© 1991 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
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Sculpture Of Man (B-sida på "Faster")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
War censored, no blood on TV
Cheap entertainment sold like a new deodorant
World War Three, a Sega dreamland
I'd take a whore to the funeral
Sculpture of man
Sculpture of man
Sculpture of man
Sculpture of man
Jesus descends, Dachau his father
Flanders is a corpse under flowers
There's more art in a burger king
than the British museum today
Sculpture of man
Sculpture of man
Sculpture of man
Sculpture of man
Wills and Harry, dressed in drag
standing over the sodomised body of their mother
would make a beautiful poster in Athena
Sculpture of man
Sculpture of man
Sculpture of man
Sculpture of man
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing
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Sepia (B-sida på "Kevin Carter")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire)
A flamed adolescence
Steeped in the history of you
Stopped in the summer with you
Experience is lost on me
I am melancholia eternally
But I still smile so stupidly
For the 1st time ever
I don't understand my television
And just like the moment
In Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
I'm perpetually stuck in a sepia film
But bleeding inside I manage to keep it all in
I keep it all in
I've spoken so much rubbish
Done it in no time at all
Feelings are so fatal in the fall
No you never kissed me
Never felt anything for me
Sepia the stain that I remembered
Unwritten diaries
That can never breathe, never breathe
And just like the moment
In Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
I'm perpetually stuck in a sepia film
But bleeding inside I manage to keep it all in
I keep it all in
And just like the moment
In Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
I'm perpetually stuck in a sepia film
But bleeding inside I manage to keep it all in
I keep it all in
© 1996 Sony Music Publishing
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Socialist Serenade (Extralåt på Japanutgåvan av "This is my truth...")
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
What's the point in an education
When you have to pay for the privilege
This side of the truth where no sun shines
They don't count - the cripples and the blind
I was thinking everybody had a chance
Like a dream stretched away too far
All this time such a debt to the city
I don't know who is the real enemy
This is a socialist serenade
Yes I have money but hate champagne
This is a socialist serenade
I can't see the past anywhere
Some greater benefit for the people
Ha ha ha ha we all believe in you
Is it about the politics of celebrity
Or endless days in the sun of Tuscany
This is a socialist serenade
Yes I have money but hate champagne
This is a socialist serenade
I can't see the past anywhere, anywhere
This is a socialist serenade
Yes I have money but hate champagne
This is a socialist serenade
I can't see the past anywhere, anywhere
Change your name a new
Forget the fucking Labour
Robin Cooks' gone wild
He's licking too much pussy
John Prescott's still cool
Must be cos he's Welsh
We're not talking buckets of water here
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
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Sorrow 16 (B-sida på "Motown Junk" och "Slash'n'burn")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Cut your hair in front of businessmen
Kill yourself and censor health
Destroy words and ignore their truth
Wanna die and have never worked
I feel like falling, I feel like falling
I feel like falling, I feel like falling
I feel like falling, I feel like falling
I can't feel no need to care
Narcotic of ambition poisoned my air
Wearing hate like you wear money
Sucking down vodka, spitting out Perrier, huh
I feel like falling, I feel like falling
I feel like falling, I feel like falling
I feel like falling, I feel like falling
Oh the road is beautiful
You live stoned on obedience
Your vanity kills people
Paint your ego in blood
Oh the road is beautiful
The wall is a reason for you to believe
There's too many numbers for us to sleep
The wall is a reason for you to believe
Because there are too many numbers, numbers, numbers...
Oh the road is beautiful
You live stoned on obedience
Your vanity kills people
Paint your ego in blood
Oh the road is b e a u t i f u l
B e a u t i f u l
Beautiful
© 1991 Copyright Control
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Soul Contamination (B-sida på "Stay beautiful")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Everyone is staring with the glaze of obsession
Interlocking cartels bypassing the bone
The empty statement of artschool dissension
Institutionalised expression of mass control
And if when America flings in whole
Your pile of misery where centuries be
And he does win a holiday after a poll
One per cent interest stand up with glee
Soul contamination spreads the germs of finance
Making weak minds think this is what they want
Power facts are brutally sold to worn darkened skin
Arise the new scum arise to the sound of a drum
With your desk degrees in civil engineering
They're drawing up plans for a future for themselves
And sweet daddy buys up a university
On a mission tied next to suits
Soul contamination - die because you crossed by fire
Soul contamination - poverty expressed in your heart
Soul contamination - arise, surrender, burn
Soul contamination - do you rise up
© 1991 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
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Starlover (B-sida på "You love us" samt "From despair to where?")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Paint your lips, things fall apart
Flowers of hate caress my skin now
Spend my time sucked up inside
Mutilation kick off all you believe in
Starlover - you're just a souvenir
Starlover - you're just another prayer
Starlover oh you touch me so
Feels like faces without kisses
Sterile wants spin in my head
I don't need culture, I spit it out
Twist and fall, wounds don't choke
I piss on records, wanna see you dead
Starlover - you're just a souvenir
Starlover - you're just another prayer
Starlover oh you touch me so
A body voice born under torture
Leper cult disciples of a still born Christ
I worship stone so lance my eyes
Miles apart from anyone
Soma airwaves of killing oxygene
We queue consuming anything
Hate all songs, aesthetic slavery
Starlover - you're just a souvenir
Starlover - you're just another prayer
Starlover oh you touch me so
Feels like faces without kisses
Starlover
Starlover
Starlover
Starlover
© 1991 Copyright Control
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Suicide Alley (Version 1) (B-sida på "Little baby nothing" samt MSP:s första singel)
(Preachers)
I'm going down to suicide alley
'Cos the air that I breathe tastes better down there
I'm going down to suicide alley
'Cos it seems as if, as if it's the only place for me
And I'm going down to suicide alley
Where you can't get at me
And I'm going down to suicide alley
Where I can be what I want to be
I'm going down to suicide alley
'Cos the air that I breathe tastes better down there
I'm going down to suicide alley
'Cos it seems as if, as if it's the only place for me
And I'm going down to suicide alley
Where you can't get at me
And I'm going down to suicide alley
Where I can be what I want to be
You won't eat away at my mind with your ideas of decency
I'll be in suicide alley being who and what I want to be
You won't eat away at my mind with your ideas of decency
I'll be in suicide alley being who and what I want to be
© 1988 Copyright Control
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Tennessee I Get Low (B-sida på "Suicide alley")
(Preachers)
one two
one two three four
They'd never beat that deeper in
'Cos I want her and she wants him
Tennessee nights just zip-code love
Take those pills and now she'll dream on
Tennessee's eyes orange once blue
Tennessee's gone and I get low
Tennessee's gone and I get low
Wet through the desert soaked to the skin
Gasoline I wear loose lines I kick
Tennessee nights just zip-code love
Take those pills and now she'll dream on
Tennessee's eyes orange once blue
Tennessee's gone and I get low
Tennessee's gone and I get low
And my heart's fucking gutted
And my money's on ice
And my money is running out
And my money is running out
And my money is running out
They never dig that deeper in
'Cos I want her and she wants him
(I never forget you)
Wet through the desert soaked to the skin
(I never forget you)
Gasoline I wear, loose lines I kick
(I never forget you)
© 1988 Copyright Control
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Theme From M.A.S.H. (Suicide Is Painless)
(Mark Altman/Johnny Mandel)
Through early morning fog I see
Visions of the things to be
The pains that are withheld for me
I realise and I can see
That suicide is painless
It brings on many changes
I can take or leave it if I please
That game of life is hard to play
I'm gonna lose it anyway
The losing card of some delay
So this is all I have to say
That suicide is painless
It brings on many changes
I can take or leave it if I please
The sword of time will pierce our skin
It doesn't hurt when it begins
But as it works its way on in
The pain grows stronger, watch it burn
That suicide is painless
It brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please
A brave man once requested me
To answer questions that are key
Is it to be or not to be
And I replied oh why ask me
That suicide is painless
It brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I...
That suicide is painless
It brings on many changes
I can take or leave it if I please
That suicide is painless
It brings on many changes
And you can do the same thing if you please
© 1970 Twentieth Century Corp.
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Too Cold Here* (B-sida på "Revol")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
Born in burial gowns, recessing slowly
You soon wish you couldn't see at all
Tortured in the mind, sex, voices alone
Futile gestures, emotionless groans
Everyone ask what's wrong but what's right
An acute lie makes everything uptight
To kill your dream before it's considered
To live in silence, airless closet, no vision
It's easier to make love to a stranger
Than to ask a friend to call
Suspicion knows nothing
And is known for not much at all
Too cold here
Turn yourself bleeding inside
Always look for walls
To lean beside
Too cold here
Turn yourself bleed it's eyes
Always look for shade
To cover your eyes
Self-pity yourself is so shallow, I'm so
Sick in the mind and body, heart cold as stone
Whiskey mac aroma, my peace of mind
Hello Mr. Samsung, you can't clean my soul
Wake up sighing mass for the bleeding
Never share sadness, mine, no man prays painless
Coalescing, mine are hidden rooms
Cannot give anything, I never could
Prison, it's only four walls but sometimes
The mind is the smallest prison of all
Offering there upon offering
As a ball with a touch feels through it's fall
Through it's fall
Too cold here
Turn yourself bleeding inside
Always look for walls
To lean beside
Too cold here
Turn yourself bleed it's eyes
Always look for shade
To cover your eyes
© 1994 Sony Music Publishing
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UK Channel Boredom (?)
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
I'd say it's disgusting the way this government is treating people who can't
....fully live in this English country of ours
I think it's absolutely disgusting the way we feed/treat people in this
country
Primary prole MP judge general policeman
Figureheads sucked in as just another token
To sell your culture and tolerate another
Annihilation in the persuit of self-love corruption
UK channel boredom - tune in reception control
UK channel boredom - underclass coma zone
Don't pacify your life to suit dead law convention
White trash held up as just more gold chain icons
State fed lies charm empty eyes
Happy thought a unity death smile of acceptance
UK channel boredom - mainline on a death fix
UK channel boredom - bleed the thought of throwing bricks
Europa kid, realise your thoughts
Kill all ruling class laws
© Unknown
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Us Against You (B-sida på "Roses in the hospital")
(Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore; Lyrics: Nicky Wire/Richey James)
From journalist to video to Channel 4 T.V.
My life is fulfilled so adequately
I love my dealer and I travel the world
From freelance to new dance
And I expect on the world I am
From Cantonese food to fashionable friends
The list of invites never seems to end
So bomb London and its M.P.'s
John Major Virginia Bottomley
So bomb London its music and its culture
Acid wit beauty and charm
It doesn't take much to twist my arm
Free trip free drink it all goes down so so well
Maybe a Sunday supplement will turn up soon
A documentary on censorship sounds real cool
It's easy to see that I went to public school
So bomb London and its M.P.'s.
John Major Virginia Bottomley
Bomb London its music and its culture
So bomb London and its M.P.'s
John Major Virginia Bottomley
So bomb London its music and its culture
So bomb London and its magazines
Time-out Face and ID
Bomb London its music and its culture
You ain't ever been a racist
But Tyson was guilty man
He was guilty
© 1993 Sony Music Publishing Ltd.
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Valley Boy (?)
(Lyrics: Nick Jones; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore)
Here I am in Amsterdam
I like it here they speak my language
Even though it's not my own
It's got BBC for comfort zone
But best of all it's got Marks & Spencer
Equality for the masses never felt better
And some of my dreams
They may have come true
But so have my nightmares
Which I can't get through
And now I've lost the power to speak
And now I've lost the power to eat
Idle and out of touch in Europe
Nothing's gone and nothing's changed
All that was before will still remain
It's to late to learn a new currency
And some of my dreams
They may have come true
But so have my nightmares
Which I can't get through
© 1998 Sony/ATV Music Publishing Ltd.
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We Her Majesty's Prisoners (B-sida på "Motown junk" samt "You love us")
Jewels drip red and I don't sound proud
Treason is ambition I want dead procession
All we got unholy leftovers of a compromise
Leaving us like butterflies trapped in frost
England's glory lives on in worldwide genocide
So celebrate Buchenwald as Her Majesty's heir
Now an obsolete face on a currency of illusion
No matter what we own we can't buy freedom
Ceremony rape machine
Love won't corrode you
Throw myself against you cos you ain't frail
Underneath silk riches sixty six million giving slaves
This needle of religions gonna rust my skin
Tear out and exit obeyance of created sin
Faces pressed onto gates of anniversary torture
Without these fake images we'd never bow down
Don't need this history but we still accept
Conscripted into a past that invents our guilt
Ceremony rape machine
Love won't corrode you
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This Girl's Got Nothing (Demo)
This girl's got nothing and she wears her heart on her wrist
She swears by her attitude and the smile she never gives
But she's got me
Oh, she's got me
This girl's got nothing
This girl's got nothing
But she's got me
But she's got me
This girl's got nothing and she wears her heart on her wrist
She swears by her attitude and the smile she never gives
This girl's got nothing
This girl's got nothing
This girl's got nothing
This girl's got nothing
But she's got me
This girl's got nothing and she wears her heart on her wrist
She swears by her attitude and the smile she never gives
This girl's got nothing
This girl's got nothing
Let's get this straight girl, you love me
Let's get this straight girl, you love me
Let's get this straight girl, you love me
Let's get this straight girl, you love me
Let's get this straight girl, you love me
Let's get this straight girl, you love me
Let's get this straight girl, you love me
Let's get this straight girl, you love me
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Behave Yourself Baby (Demo)
Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah
Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah
Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah
Bah bah
Behave yourself baby and I will be back
Behave yourself baby and I will be back
Behave yourself baby and I will be back now
Baby love, you're not the only thing I'm dreaming of
Baby love, you're not the only thing I'm dreaming of
Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah
Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah
Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah
Bah bah
Baby love, you're not the only thing I'm drinking for
Baby love, you're not the only thing I'm drinking for
All I want from you is the skin you live within
All I want from you is the skin you live within
All I want from you is the skin you live within
All I want from you is the skin you live within
Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah
Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah
Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah
Bah bah
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Razorblade Beat 3.05 (Demo)
Sweet razorblade start your beat
Cut through the mire and skid through the grass and make it deep
Sweet razorblade start your beat
Cut through the mire and skid through the grass and make it deep
Sweet razorblade
Sweet razorblade
Sweet razorblade
Sweet razorblade
Sweet razorblade
Sweet razorblade
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Faceless Sense Of Void (Demo/Love's sweet exile)
We blur into images of state coercion
Classified machines die misunderstood
City reflections pour out misery
We don't count cos we hate
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Leave this country
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Leave it
Despair seeps through and cuts our eyes
Unified collapse of everything inside
We understand but can't accept
You are not dead cos we hate
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Leave this country
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Leave it
Our lives drift into a faceless sense of void
Everything of meaning becomes destroyed
There's too much concrete for us to breathe
We are kept down cos we hate
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Leave this country
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Believe it
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Leave this country
Raindown alienation
Leave this country
Believe it
I can't breathe
I can't breathe
I can't breathe
I can't breathe
I can't breathe
I can't breathe
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Generation Terrorists (demo)
Find your faith in your cocaine
All broken up at seventeen
Jam your brain with broken heroes
Love your masks and adore your chains
Babes on the run with poisoned lips
Wrap your arms round this everlasting kiss
Deny your culture of consumption
This is a culture of destruction
Don't wanna see your face
Don't wanna hear your words
Why don't you just fuck off
Don't wanna see your face
Don't wanna hear your words
Why don't you just fuck off
Clinging to your own sense of waste
All we love is lonely wreckage
Your school your dole and your chequebook dreams
Your clothes your suits and your pension schemes
Now you say you know how we feel
But don't fall in love cos we hate you still
Don't wanna see your face
Don't wanna hear your words
Why don't you just fuck off
Don't wanna see your face
Don't wanna hear your words
Why don't you just fuck off
Destroyed by madness, oh yeah
Destroyed by madness, oh yeah
Destroyed by madness, oh yeah
Anxiety is freedom
We're a mess of eyeliner and spraypaint
D.I.Y. destruction on chanel chic