1. |
Ministry of Lies
05:19
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Ministry of Lies
I’ve been working all night at the Ministry Of Lies.
I’ve been telling you what to fear and who to despise.
I wear a tailored suit, from a fabric of lies.
I weave you with my word spells as I pull the wool over your eyes.
I’ve been speaking in forked tongues as the smears deceive the eye.
I learned these tricks at the university, the university of lies.
I’m qualified to lie too you..
So i’ve been tapping at the keys at the ministry.
Where we’ve been rewriting history,
Where words are a means to an end.
Yes, we know them and how they can bend.
We’ve been torturing truth, fabricating the proof.
Trust is traumatised as the people, as the people die. While I lie.
It’s all lies..
We’ve got a whistle blowing policy.
Lock them up and throw away the key.
They bring shame to our profession,
So we write up their confession.
Word in from the swamp is we’ll hang them high and dry.
Your democracy has been edited and revised.
So you play the game, I’ll tell you why.
I’ll write you a story, a story for you to buy.
Yes you’re all free, so long as you comply.
Here take my card from this pack of lies; this pack of lies.
I’ve been paying my rent. I’ve been paying my rent every day.
I’ve been paying my rent every day at the Ministry Of Lies.
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2. |
Uncomfortable in my Skin
03:33
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Uncomfortable in my Skin
Uncomfortable in my skin, I’m just not fitting in.
I live behind a forced grin, this story is wearing thin.
I compose a suitable pose, feel like one of these, not like one of those,
you can fool some, some of the time and fool yourself that this is fine.
Uncomfortable in my skin and I just can’t scratch what lies within.
Uncomfortable in my skin and just can’t scratch the lies within.
My costume is neat and trim, but it chafes at my thin skin.
Too much chintz and too many pleats, fail to hide what I lack beneath.
Uncomfortable in my skin, and i just can’t hide what I lack within.
Uncomfortable in my skin, someone stupid has moved in.
He’s uncomfortable in his skin. She’s just not fitting in.
They’re uncomfortable in their skin. Come on, let’s look at them.
I dance ahead of the the beat, these shoes pinch at both my left feet.
It’s the choreography of a cheat, my next step is my defeat.
Uncomfortable in my skin, and i just can’t hide what I lack within.
Uncomfortable in my skin, someone stupid has moved in.
Uncomfortable in my skin, I just can’t scratch the lies within.
Uncomfortable in my skin. Who’s getting taken in?
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3. |
Risk Assessment
02:40
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Risk Assessment
You called me in for an interview. I was never going to get through.
You set some targets I couldn’t hit, not even on the range of missing it.
At the meeting it all seemed benign, but my life lies in between the lines,
of your form that’s there to set some norms, to measure how much I conform.
You assessed the risk, didn’t get the gist. Something got missed and I was dissed.
You assessed the risk, didn’t get the gist. I’m off the scale I’m bound to fail Bound to fail
…. Lets fail…
I missed the goal, over-ran the deadline. My personal best is the worst part of my timeline.
For my means there is a test, to cover the cost of social unrest.
There’s someone here who got lost and someone else measuring the cost.
I’m all accounted, I am a bill. No wonder I’m getting ill.
You assessed the risk, didn’t get the gist. Something got missed and I was dissed.
You assessed the risk, didn’t get the gist. I’m in the aim to take the blame. Take the blame.
Blame me man.
Check me out I’m turning radical, your tick box test is mathematical.
The results collated and calculated, guess what, I’m alienated.
Babylon’s burning with anxiety and we’re living in the Full Catastrophe.
But you can’t fix this by fixing me. I’m broken, we all are, you see.
You assessed the risk, didn’t get the gist. Something got missed and I was dissed.
You assessed the risk, didn’t get the gist. Something got missed and I was dissed.
You assessed the risk, didn’t get the gist. Something got missed and I was dissed.
You assessed the risk, didn’t get the gist. I’m one more for your reject list.
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4. |
Working for the Man
06:27
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Working for the Man
When you work for the man, he will get you,
tie you up in order to protect you.
When you work for the man he will blind you,
with clauses and conditions he will bind you.
When you sing the right words you are applauded.
Empty rhetoric gets things sorted.
When you throw the right shapes you are rewarded.
Pavlov had a dog it’s been reported.
This is a song about the man.
The doctrine of supply and demand.
They say “It’s the only show in town.”
So who is this fool about to drown?
When you work for the man he will train you.
Appraise you and drain you then blame you.
This is the man who wants to own you.
To hire you out to dry and subprime loan you.
If you kill for the man, he’ll put a badge on your chest.
Call you a hero and hope you will invest.
But if the nightmares come and blow your soul away,
then the margins are your refuge if you don’t get locked away.
This is a song about the man,
who’ll use you all up if he can.
So here, take this empty bag.
Have you ever had the feeling you’ve been had?
If your work for the man is a success,
then your inner life will surely be a mess.
Though you may live to be old,
you’ll never repossess the soul you sold.
This is the man who will nail you.
Who’ll radicalise you and torture you, then jail you.
Under cross examination he will fail you.
He will immolate you and then he will inhale you.
This is a song about the man.,
who’ll use you all up if he can.
So here, take this empty bag.
Have you ever had the feeling you’ve been had?
Have you ever had the feeling you’ve been had?
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5. |
2muchAg
03:35
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2MuchAg
Dirt alert, it’s a dirt alert. Dirt alert, it’s a dirt alert
My eye’s are crusted up with dust and breathe it in it seems I must.
The permitted particulates you just can’t trust will surely turn my lungs to rust.
Your emission submission barely meets the minimum requirements by law, of the government commission.
Just enough is not good enough! Cough, cough, cough, cough it up.
Dirt alert, it’s a dirt alert. Dirt alert, it’s a dirt alert.
So please could you tell me the source of that smell? Your ingredient expedient is making me unwell
Agrochemicals, in the dust and the grain, pharmaceuticals washed down the drain.
Every town has it’s dark satanic mill, it pollutes the air and makes me ill
So come on Liz Truss this is just and you must just support our cause or be damned and cussed.
There’s 2muchAg in the air. The Two Sisters of Boparan they just don’t care.
There’s 2muchAg in the air. The Two Sisters of Boparan they just don’t care.
The Two Sisters of Boparan they just don’t care.
They say there’s only one F in Stoke Ferry. It’s got an f’ing great big chicken feed factory
Cheap beer and job security, that’s the story of yesterday.
The profits have all been funnelled away, more noise and dirt every f’ing day.
This village is riven Doris Coates did say, our post industrial legacy.
It’s profits over people and the politics of meat, the price is neat it’s….. “chirpy chirpy cheap cheap”
Chicks are de-beaked coz they stress and peck, the merchandise must be protected.
We don’t see the sheds where the sun don’t shine or the final trip to the production line.
Hormonally grown with antibiotic spice, I wouldn’t eat it it wouldn’t be nice.
This sell by date it seems to be wrong, this dirt cheap meat’s been around too long
…in the tooth and you’ve hidden the proof! Now it’s time to. tell us the truth,
Because your word is your bond and your bonds are junk, food business for years it has stunk
You’ve made a killing but your chick stock’s down. The chicken king is losing his crown.
There’s 2muchAg in the air. The Two Sisters of Boparan they just don’t care.
There’s 2muchAg in the air. The Two Sisters of Boparan they just don’t care.
There’s 2muchAg in the air. The Two Sisters of Boparan they just don’t care.
There’s 2muchAg in the air. The Two Sisters of Boparan they just don’t care.
The The Two Sisters of Boparan they just don’t care.
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6. |
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Our Very Last Dance
The ground has been laid bare and no one seems to care.
A consensus trance. Our very last dance.
A swivel of your hips, a whisper from your lips.
The zombie apocalypse, is at our finger tips.
A mass movement of the comfortably deluded.
In a world fearfully denuded.
A community of the excluded.
A cult of the willingly stupid.
The scene is utterly tragic. We’re all praying for magic.
And the change to remain the same. And someone else to blame.
We are all out of tricks. Our breaks no longer fix.
Just listen to your heart. The grief will tear you apart.
A mass movement of the comfortably deluded.
In a world fearfully denuded.
A community of the excluded.
A cult of the willingly stupid.
I’ve a herding instinct, an instinct to be heard.
Barely can I hear these words from the clamour of the herd.
A mass movement of the comfortably deluded.
In a world fearfully denuded.
A community of the excluded.
A cult of the willingly stupid.
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7. |
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They’re Coming To Get You
They’re coming to get you. They’ve got a plan.
They’re coming to get everything they can.
They’ve got the power. It’s all lies
You know what’s true by what they deny.
The knives are out, be in no doubt
The cuts are coming and you will be cut out.
They’ve set their sights. They’ve got the might.
They believe they’ve got the God given right.
They’re coming to get you, they want it all.
It’s the ideology of fuck ‘em all.
They’re coming to get you and they want more.
This time the front line is coming to your door.
Been giving me the needle, twisting my arm.
The hypocrites’ oath, profits outweigh the harm.
The science is bought and the politics sold
You only have rights so long as you do what your told.
They’re coming to get you, they always will.
The hungry ghosts never eat their fill.
They’re coming to get you, because they can.
Compliance is death and life makes a stand… Let’s stand
Don’t know what to do. How about you?
There’s dark truths to tell, to break the spell,
break the spell.
They’re coming to get you, and they want more
This time the front line is coming to your door.
They’re coming to get you, because they can
The bureaucrat plays his deadly hand.
They’re coming to get you, it won’t go well
Compliance is death, break the spell.
They’re coming to get you, they want it all
Together we rise and divided we fall.
Break the spell… break the spell
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8. |
Bill Gates
00:41
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Bill Gates
Bill Gates, Bill Gates, Klaus Schwab, Klaus Schwab.
Bill Gates, Klaus Schwab. What the fuck?
Bill Gates, Bill Gates, Klaus Schwab, Klaus Schwab.
Bill Gates, Klaus Schwab. What the fuck?
Bill Gates, Bill Gates, Bill Gates, Klaus Schwab, Klaus Schwab, Klaus Schwab.
Bill Gates, Klaus Schwab. What the fuck?
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9. |
Tins n' Guns
05:02
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Tins and Guns
I’m a hungry ghost in search of a host
I need a feed, I need it the most.
Top of the tree, it’s me, me, me, endlessly.
Load up on self concern. And lessons poorly learned.
Where more and more is never enough
and there’s a tarnish to your upper crust.
Where all is trashed for a piece of crap for your stash.
Load up on all you can. It’s getting out of hand.
A sense of insecurity
from inside your gated community.
A toxic tide sweeps through,the cracks in your defences.
Load up on prayers and guns. And the fears from which you run.
Designer corpses stain our clothes.
Smell the sweat and dust of those
locked out of our neoliberal hypocrisy.
Load up on handbags and guns. It’s alright for some.
Lost, possessed, Ill at ease. Infected with a wasting dis-ease.
Sleep walking to the bitter end. It’s the latest, consensus trend.
We’ve had our cake and it’s been “et”
It hasn’t been digested yet.
Too many sugars and transnational fats.
Load up on heart attacks. Don’t turn your back.
The stench of need hangs in the air.
The squalor gets up my nose.
I really care but don’t get too close.
Load up on yet more guns. And misfortune to come.
All that’s gained will be lost at an escalating cost.
Grab the goods, they turn bad.
For that we have been driven mad.
Load Up..
Load up on tins and guns. Till it all comes undone.
Load up your boat and run. Get out while you can!
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10. |
Flag Waving Man
02:34
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Flag Waving Man
I’ve got a new flag made in Vietnam.
Everyone thinks it stands for En-ger-land
This hallowed flag from thread so fine
Made by the million on a production line.
It’s a white flag with a big red cross,
Child labour helps to cut the cost
of this synthetic silk, sweat shop rag
That’s stained with the colours of my new flag.
My new flag, you should see my new flag.
it’s in a shrink wrapped bag. It’s a cultural tag.
I’ve got a Chineses flag in red white and blue.
The fabric so thin that I can see through
That it separates me from you
Thus we are subjugated by the few.
Red is for the blood all colours run through.
White is washed over yesterdays news.
Blue is the blood in the privileged chalice.
It’s Uber Alles down at Buckingham palace.
With my new flag. It was made in China.
For a chick called Regina, I wave my new flag.
let’s wave man…..
See my flag I wave it hard.
I stick on a pole in my back yard.
It lets you know where I stand.
Oooh Aaah get off my land.
I’ve two flags on my Japanese car
the master race ain’t going very far.
I’ve got a plastic flag on a plastic stick,
when I wave it, I look like…..
A flag waving man. A flag waving man.
I’m flagging it up that this is flagging,
this flag waving scam.
A flag waving man. A flag waving man.
I’m flagging it up that this is flagging,
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11. |
White Trash
04:28
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White Trash
See this face, this pale face.
A pale imitation of the master race.
See this skin, it’s pink and thin.
I cannot hide what I lack within.
It’s this pink thin skin that gets me in
The lower middling, white trash bin.
Coz I’m white, white trash. I’m lower middle mass.
I’m trash, like you. My rent is now due and I owe it all to you.
My nation state, it is third rate
You can’t use hate to make things great.
I sold my soul, for identity.
A skin thin, nonentity.
Coz I’m white, white trash. I’m lower middle mass.
I’m trash, like you my rent is now due and I owe it all to you.
I’m segregated, from my kin.
By a cheap trick of this pink thin skin.
It’s privilege that I put above
Our liberation and our love.
Coz I’m white, white trash. I’m lower middle mass.
I’m trash, like you. My rent is now due
Coz I’m white, white trash. I’m lower middle mass.
I’m trash, like you. My rent is now due and I owe it all to you.
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12. |
Killing Trees
06:00
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Killing Trees
We’ve been killing trees, making refugees.
Spreading our dis-ease, shattering the peace.
The toxins in our dreams are poisoning the streams.
Endless petty schemes are the bitter ends of our means.
We’ve been killing fields, for the sake of yields.
Silencing the spring, cold hearts they do their thing.
We’ve been burning trash, making cash from the ash.
Taste this bitter dust. That’s the backlash
Money does not care for sickness or despair.
You just can’t get away from death and decay.
We’ve been sinking boats of those with nowhere to go.
Dead fish go with the flow. It’s the end of the show.
The dying coral reefs are in the oceans of our grief.
I thought we’d be here forever, but this beauty is far too brief.
I sunk the dirty depths, with the weight of regret.
I soared sickening heights in manic flight.
Money does not care for sickness or despair.
You just can’t get away from death and decay.
We’ve been drinking Pop, As if junk is all we’ve got.
This sugar coated top, it’s the depth of the plot.
It’s the depth of the plot. Is it all that we’ve got?
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The John preston Tribute Band UK
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