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Lyrics:
Cold white sky like milk this morning Sirens flash like Christmas lights Behind every window, someone's alive My eyes are too sore, though; the days are too bright The wall is too tall to sit on without swaying The day is too new to be over for ages All over this city people are hungry For things that they don't know the names of
It's all just bricks and lights and bodies Muscles twitching, heads snap back; the glitches All these pretty pictures, there must be more to life than pixels Life has her hands on her pistol She swears she'll not be ours again Life will keep her lonely vigil Slow to start but fast to end; we Sit and itch our cuts and scratches Crying in our mother's kitchens Is this love or death or marriage? Is this life or is life different?
Do something please Scream that you hear me Let this be more than the feeling I harbour Let this be ours Let there be more here than wages and Page 3 and waiting for lager And waiting for trains home Waiting for trains in Waiting for life to begin And then waiting for life to be over And babies and not saying nothing Let alone 'save me' to strangers
Bad place for a good time Good place for a bad time Bad place for a good time Good place for a bad time
I can't take the stench any more Nothing is real Nothing is trying to even pretend that it is The adverts are too loud The whole fucking place is shrouded in mist A mist we can't we can't see But it sticks in our throats When we're out for a couple We don't want no trouble But trouble wants us And we fall in the rubble And we give it our blood And go home for a cuddle
And this is enough for you; this is enough But this is not enough, not at all And this is enough, this is enough This is not enough; not at all
But here is a tree growing steadily, steadily Not being nothing but all that it is Not even grumbling, holding its own In the concrete, the rumbling of cars, and the dog piss It doesn't want anything; it is what it is And I feed it, I'm dwarfed by its wisdom I'm lit by its colours, I feel every fibre And this is survival: be what you are In the mess and the violence Don't collect rivals, seek out asylums Find something sacred in all of this silence
I breath out more comfortable, holds my waist in Legs thick as roots they carry me deeper down Even when nothing is true and love hates you There's always some small bit of peace to be found Even when nothing is true and love hates you Even when nothing is true and love hates you Even when nothing is true and love hates you There's always some small bit of peace to be found
Bad place for a good time Good place for a bad time Bad place for a good time Good place for a bad time
Bad place for a good time Good place for a bad time Bad place for a good time Good place for a bad time
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