Chase Yirsel

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