1. |
hooray for everything
02:35
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the well wishers have come crawling to crush our frail goodbyes. The buying public is still waiting for their stocks to realise. They're contortionists. They conform to fit when they bow down to it. The slave owners and the fucking pigs are here to testify of good characters, and giving witnesses, and bleeding your palms white. You've escaped the pull of merchandise. But there's still subtle product lines, and charity that begins and ends at home. Take a look around the bake sale line at all the familiar faces you find when substance gives way to the form.
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2. |
community theater
02:35
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at the community theater. In the carpark. Screaming. The props department is working over time, building you that fine front porch. And taking your vows. Just fuck already. But I don't want to see it, so close the door. At the community theater, and I wish I was dead. These people wanna see you ripped inside out? They could look it up on the goddamn internet or something, I guess. At the community theater. Bless 'em, they try.
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3. |
weatherman
02:50
|
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they're crossing now to the weather. I'm coming live from the zoo. All the animals are slowly dying, and inside, on your tv screen, I'm dying too. See I know what our future holds. Isometric bars have all the answers if you know where to look. You smug, cynical newsreader pigs, this is no laughing matter. I'm crossing fingers, I'm writing lists and loading guns. I'm making my plans for a day I know will come. If I can't make you wake up, I can make you afraid of me. I'll show you what fear is, live on shitty breakfast tv. In all my time as a weatherman, I can tell you son, I've seen some shit. But what's coming? That's like the ultimate fucking punchline...they're crossing now to the weather. Coming live from your children's future. And street by street, block by block? Everything is fucked.
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4. |
||||
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god bless all the ships at sea. God bless the boys of the royal navy. Our fearless leaders in their untroubled sleep, The hands that drag them down to the deep. God bless it all and play it all down for me. God bless little children and their perfect dreams. The hands that drag them down to the deep. The bloody hands we never have to clean, when empire's assassins do their work for free. God bless it all and lay it all down for me. Yeah lay it all on down for me. And clean up your image. Clean up your sound. Clean up your act.
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5. |
your performance review
06:25
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the board of directors has gathered around the conference table. To round out the numbers they've pulled in some people off the street. The things you never knew are all in your performance review. And now all you worst fears are all coming true. The files will be sealed, except to the shareholders, the stockholders and the people off the street.
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older men Melbourne, Australia
Brian, Chris, and Dase. Band photo by Brian O'Dwyer
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