Chase Yirsel Songtext
von Stanley Odd
Chase Yirsel Songtext
Do what you like
Like what you do
If yir living to work
Ask me that′s askew
Tell Mister Paper Chaser
We are not amused
It goes born, school, work, death
Humans with glaiket coupons let the bookmakers purse stretch
As false hope leaks from a burst pen
And you place yir first bet before you take yir first breath
Decomposing croupiers looking hopelessly depressed
With the swagger of an old lady at a church fete
Deal eternal torment to jokers from a rigged deck
In a tobacco stained casino full of the extras from the sixth sense
Neon signs flicker over rotisserie turned heads
City fogged up from furnace smoke and burned flesh
Friends trade in their souls for pieces of gold to make them hurt less
Then sleep in the earth beneath their
Own turf feeding the worms in their dirt bed
I react like a bull to a red rag
'Til I glow around the edges like the Ready Brek man
With the heavyset slang to make many heads bang
And yi can chase yirsel for that bed tax
Do what you like...
Pass the obedience.
I′m painfully close to feeling as though my brain's ma own
I frequently seem to be low on my acceptance of the status quo
Your belief that we're in safe hands in misplaced
Wait. I need to step up my propaganda intake
And get another shot of behaviour regulator
Read the paper, front page of the Daily Speculator
An investigator tells of scandal, sleaze and sexual favours
And how British values need a respirator
I′m unimpressed Lord Vader, that′s quite enough fear for now
Mustn't grumble, any dissent and the spyware will hear the sound
Puppets -- dance for yir wages or phantoms and agents
Will have yir strings cut while you graft on the dayshift
Is Russell Brand right to say don′t vote?
If yir a no show on 18th September then we won't know
We′re all aware of the social disparity
So the strategy's bank of public apathy
Best take you medicine with glazed eyes, OK guys?
MPs can′t stop their 7k pay rise
While wages drop like that guy Watsky's stage dive
Costs inflate like the nation's waist size
Like what you do
If yir living to work
Ask me that′s askew
Tell Mister Paper Chaser
We are not amused
It goes born, school, work, death
Humans with glaiket coupons let the bookmakers purse stretch
As false hope leaks from a burst pen
And you place yir first bet before you take yir first breath
Decomposing croupiers looking hopelessly depressed
With the swagger of an old lady at a church fete
Deal eternal torment to jokers from a rigged deck
In a tobacco stained casino full of the extras from the sixth sense
Neon signs flicker over rotisserie turned heads
City fogged up from furnace smoke and burned flesh
Friends trade in their souls for pieces of gold to make them hurt less
Then sleep in the earth beneath their
Own turf feeding the worms in their dirt bed
I react like a bull to a red rag
'Til I glow around the edges like the Ready Brek man
With the heavyset slang to make many heads bang
And yi can chase yirsel for that bed tax
Do what you like...
Pass the obedience.
I′m painfully close to feeling as though my brain's ma own
I frequently seem to be low on my acceptance of the status quo
Your belief that we're in safe hands in misplaced
Wait. I need to step up my propaganda intake
And get another shot of behaviour regulator
Read the paper, front page of the Daily Speculator
An investigator tells of scandal, sleaze and sexual favours
And how British values need a respirator
I′m unimpressed Lord Vader, that′s quite enough fear for now
Mustn't grumble, any dissent and the spyware will hear the sound
Puppets -- dance for yir wages or phantoms and agents
Will have yir strings cut while you graft on the dayshift
Is Russell Brand right to say don′t vote?
If yir a no show on 18th September then we won't know
We′re all aware of the social disparity
So the strategy's bank of public apathy
Best take you medicine with glazed eyes, OK guys?
MPs can′t stop their 7k pay rise
While wages drop like that guy Watsky's stage dive
Costs inflate like the nation's waist size
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