(adapted after Pink Floyd)
Tell me true, tell me why, was Jesus crucified
Is it for this that daddy died?
Was it for you? Was it me? Did I watch too much T.V.?
Is that a hint of accusation in your eyes?
If it wasn’t for the nips being so good at building ships
The yards would still be open on the river Clyde…
And it can’t be much fun for them, beneath the rising sun
With all their kids committing suicide.
What have we done, Maggie what have we done?
Should we shout, should we scream
„What happened to the post war dream?”
They flutter behind you your possible pasts,
Some bright-eyed and crazy, some frightened and lost.
A warning to anyone still in command („Ranks! Fire!”)
Of their possible future, to take care.
She stood in the doorway, the ghost of a smile, haunting her face like a cheap hotel sign.
Her cold eyes imploring the men in their macs for the gold in their bags or the knives in their backs.
Stepping up boldly one put out his hand.
He said: „I was just a child then, now I’m only a man.”
By the cold and religious we were taken in hand shown how to feel good and told to feel bad.
Tongue tied and terrified we learned how to pray
Now our feelings run deep and cold as the clay.
When you’re one of the few to land on your feet, what do you do to make ends meet?
Teach.
Make them mad, make them sad, make them add two and two.
Make them me, make them you, make them do what you want them to.
Make them laugh, make them cry, make them lie down and die.
Floating down through the clouds
Memories come rushing up to meet me now.
In the space between the heavens
and in the corner of some foreign field
I had a dream.
I had a dream.
A place to stay: „Oi! A real one …”
Enough to eat
Somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And what’s more no-one ever disappears
You never hear their standard issue kicking in your door.
You can relax on both sides of the tracks
And maniacs don’t blow holes in bandsmen by remote control
And everyone has recourse to the law
And no-one kills the children anymore.
And no one kills the children anymore.
Button your lip. Don’t let the shield slip.
Take a fresh grip on your bullet proof mask.
And if they try to break down your disguise with their questions
You can hide, hide, hide,
Behind petrified eyes.
„Oi…Get your filthy hands off my desert!”
„What ‘e say?”
The Fletcher Memorial, theocratic or economic empire, home for Incurable Tyrants and Kings.
And they can appear to themselves every day on closed circuit T.V.
To make sure they’re still real.
It’s the only connection they feel.
With their favorite toys
They’ll be good girls and boys
In the Fletcher Memorial Home for colonial
Wasters of life and limbs!!!
Is everyone in? Are you having a nice time?
Now the final solution can be applied.
Through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes
I can barely define the shape of this moment in time
And far from flying high in clear blue skies
I’m spiraling down to the hole in the ground where I hide.
And if I show you my dark side
Will you still hold me tonight?
And if I open my heart to you
And show you my weak side
What would you do?
Would you sell your story to Rolling Stone?
Would you take the children away
And leave me alone?
And smile in reassurance
As you whisper down the phone?
Would you send me packing?
Or would you take me home?
Fuck all that we’ve got to get on with these, got to compete with the wily Japanese.
No need to worry about the Chinese.
Got to bring the West to his knees.
Well, maybe not only the West
Maybe the Middle East
Now let’s go and show these.
Make us feel tough
And wouldn’t God be pleased?
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah!
Hammer, Hammer, Hammer, Hammer, now!
In my rear view mirror the sun is going down
Sinking behind bridges in the road
And I think of all the good things
That we have left undone
And I suffer premonitions
Confirm suspicions
Of the holocaust to come.
And as the windshield melts
My tears evaporate
Leaving only charcoal to defend.
Finally I understand the feelings of the few.
Ashes and diamonds
Foe and friend
We were all equal in the end.
„…and now the weather. Tomorrow will be cloudy with scattered showers
spreading from the east … with an expected high of 4000 degrees
Celsius”
Ieri te-am iubit mai puțin decât azi 