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letra de clear - lice (uk)

the conveyor is chased from the stage by the ingrate mob. fade to black, then a voice

voice: h-llo friends!
and friends we are, in this petri dish, you and i
and a dirty, unclean one it is…
it is, it is, it is, it is
is it? is it? is it? is it?
it is, it is, it is, it is

as we walk this wasteland, there’s one noise:
the atrophied satirical voice, with its templates
its complacent reign comes to rough end
drag the frauds and hacks from slept…

speaker: we proudly introduce the model political singer!

wheeled to the stage is a great pink blob
smooth but for a toothless hole at its front
the lecture hall fills with whispers
a guttural explosion from the blob

blob: i hate bigots, as do you!

the hall explodes in applause

as we walk this wasteland, there’s one noise:
the atrophied satirical voice, with its templates
its complacent reign comes to rough end
drag the frauds and hacks from slept…
voice: what ails our people is clear
the traditional protest song
in which we’re caricaturised
glossing over harmful thoughts
in supposed progressive types
preventing real persuasion
in reactionary, misinformed minds
what ails our people is clear

as we walk this wasteland, there’s one noise:
the atrophied satirical voice, with its templates
its complacent reign comes to rough end
drag the frauds and hacks from slept…

and so we blast these settled laws

and these players who passed before you, friends
(as in a dream made to startle)
no longer opposed all join hands
and are as children in a circle dancing
dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing

- lice uk

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