MIDICraft's MIDINET CD-ROM/MIDICraft's MIDINET CD-ROM.iso/MIDFILES/PNKFLOYD/LYRICS.ZIP/LYRICS/FINALCUT.LYR

Text File | 1997-02-08 | 11KB | 368 lines

@ALBUM: The Final Cut
@SONG: the post war dream


  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 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
  what have we done   to england
  should we shout should we scream
  "what happened to the post war dream?"
  oh maggie   maggie what have we done?

@SONG: your possible pasts


  they flutter behind you your possible pasts
  some brighteyed and crazy some frightened and lost
  a warning to anyone still in command
  of their possible future to take care
  in derilict sidings the poppies entwine
  with cattle trucks lying in wait for the next time

  do you remember me?  how we used to be?
  do you thing we should be closer?

  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"

  do you remember me?  how we used to be?
  do you thing we should be closer?

  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
  and strung out behind us the banners and flags
  of our possible pasts lie in tatters and rags

  do you remember me?  how we used to be?
  do you thing we should be closer?

@SONG: one of the few


  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

@SONG: the hero's return


  jesus jesus what's it all about
  trying to clout these little ingrates into shape
  when i was their age all the lights went out
  there was no time to whine and mope about

  and even now part of me flies over
  dresden at angels one five
  though they'll never fathom it behind my
  sarcasm desperate memories lie

  sweetheart sweetheart are you fast asleep, good
  'cos that's the only time that i can really talk to you
  and there is something that i've locked away
  a memory that is too painful
  to withstand the light of day

  when we came back from the war the banners and
  flags hung on everyones door
  we danced and we sang in the street and

  the church bells rang
  but burning in my heart
  my memory smoulders on
  of the gunners dying words on the intercom

@SONG: the gunners dream


  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
  goodbye max
  goodbye ma
  after the service when you're walking slowly to the car
  and the silver in her hair shines in the cold november air
  you hear the tolling bell
  and touch the silk in your lapel
  and as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band
  you take her frail hand
  and hold on to the dream

  a place to stay
  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

  night after night
  going round and round my brain
  his dream is driving me insane
  in the corner of some foreign field
  the gunner sleeps tonight
  what's done is done
  we cannot just write off his final scene
  take heed of the dream
  take heed

@SONG: paranoid eyes


  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 paranoid eyes

  you put on your brave face and slip over the road for a jar
  fixing your grin as you casually lean on the bar
  laughing too loud at the rest of the world
  with the boys in the crowd
  you hide hide hide
  behind petrified eyes

  you believed in their stories of fame fortune and glory
  now you're lost in a haze of alchohol soft middle age
  the pie in the sky turned out to be miles too high
  and you hide hide hide
  behind brown and mild eyes

@SONG: get your filthy hands off my desert


  brezhnev took afghanistan
  begin took beirut
  galtieri took the union jack
  and maggie over lunch one day
  took a cruiser with all hands
  apparently to make him give it back

@SONG: the fletcher memorial home


  take all your overgrown infants away somewhere

  and build them a home a little place of their own
  the fletcher memorial
  home for incurable tyrants and kings

  and they can appear to themselves every day
  on closed circuit t.v.
  to make sure they're still real
  it's the only connection they feel
  "ladies and gentlemen, please welcome reagan and haig
  mr. begin and friend mrs. thatcher and paisley
  mr. brezhnev and party
  the ghost of mccarthy
  the memories of nixon
  and now adding colour a group of anonymous latin
  american meat packing glitterati"

  did they expect us to treat them with any respect

  they can polish their medals and sharpen their
  smiles, and amuse themselves playing games for a while
  boom boom, bang bang, lie down you're dead

  safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye
  with their favourite toys
  they'll be good girls and boys
  in the fletcher memorial home for colonial
  wasters of life and limb

  is everyone in?
  are you having a nice time?
  now the final solution can be applied

@SONG: southampton dock


  they disembarked in 45
  and no one spoke and no one smiled
  there were too many spaces in the line
  gathered at the cenotaph
  all agreed with hand on heart
  to sheath the sacrificial knifes

  but now

  she stands upon southampton dock
  with her handkerchief
  and her summer frock clings
  to her wet body in the rain
  in quiet desperation knuckles
  white upon the slippery reins
  she bravely waves the boys goodbye again

  and still the dark stain spreads between
  his shoulder blades
  a mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves
  and when the fight was over
  we spent what they had made
  but in the bottom of our hearts
  we felt the final cut

@SONG: the final cut


  through the fish eyed lens of tear stained eyes
  i can barely define the shape of this moment in time
  and far from flying high in clear blue skies
  i'm spiralling down to the hole in the ground where i hide

  if you negotiate the minefield in the drive
  and beat the dogs and cheat the cold electronic eyes
  and if you make it past the shotgun in the hall
  dial the combination.  open the priesthole
  and if i'm in i'll tell you what's behind the wall

  there's a kid who had a big hallucination
  making love to girls in magazines
  he wonders if you're sleeping with your new found faith
  could anybody love him
  or is it just a crazy dream

  and if i show you my dark side
  will you still hold me tonight
  and if i open my heart to you
  and show you my weak side
  what would you do
  would you sell your story to rolling stone
  would you take the children away
  and leave me alone
  and smile in reassurance
  as you whisper down the phone
  would you send me packing
  or would you take me home

  thought i oughta bare my naked feelings
  thought i oughta tear the curtain down
  i held the blade in trembling hands
  prepared to make it but just then the phone rang
  i never had the nerve to make the final cut

@SONG: not now john


  fuck all that we've got to get on with these
  got to compete with the wily japanese
  there's too many home fires burning
  and not enough trees
  so fuck all that
  we've got to get on with these

  cant stop   lose job   mind gone   silicon
  what bomb   get away   pay day   make hay
  break down   need fix   big six
  clickity click   hold on   oh no   brrrrrrrrrring bingo!

  make em laugh   make em cry   make em dance in the aisles
  make em pay   make em stay   make em feel ok

  not now john
  we've got to get on with the film show
  hollywood waits at the end of the rainbow
  who cares what it's all about
  as long as the kids go
  not now john
  got to get on with the show

  hang on john
  we've got to get on with this
  i don't know what it is
  but it fits on here like this ...........
  come at the end of the shift
  we'll go and get pissed
  but not now john
  i've got to get on with this

  hold on john
  i think there's something good on
  i used to read books but ............
  it could be the news
  or some other abuse
  or it could be reusable shows

  fuck all that we've got to get on with these
  got to compete with the wily japanese
  no need to worry about the vietnamese
  got to bring the russian bear to his knees
  well, maybe not the russian bear
  maybe the swedes
  we showed argentina
  now lets go and show these
  make us feel tough
  and won't maggie be pleased
  nah nah nah nah nah nah!

  s'cusi dove il bar
  se para collo pou eine toe bar
  s'il vous plait ou est le bar
  oi' where's the fucking bar john!

@SONG: two suns in the sunset


  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

  the wire that holds the cork
  that keeps the anger in
  gives way
  and suddenly it's day again
  the sun is in the east
  even though the day is done
  two suns in the sunset
  hmmmmmmmmm
  could be the human race is run

  like the moment when your brakes lock
  and you slide toward the big truck
  and stretch the frozen moments with your fear
  and you'll never hear their voices
  and you'll never see their faces
  you have no recourse to the law anymore

  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