The Style Council - Confessions of a Pop Group lyrics
[The Style Council - Confessions of a Pop Group lyrics]
Cheap and tacky bullshit land
Told when to sit don't know where you stand
Too busy recreating the past to
Live in the future
Poor relations to Uncle Sam
Bears no relation to the country man
Too busy being someone else to
Be who you really are
Shitty plastic prefab town
Mind where you walk when the sun goes down
Too busy hating others to even love your own
Bobbies on the beat again
Beating blacks for blues again
It's one way to get involved in the community
Love me, love my jeans
I must buy shares in Heinz baked beans
Too busy buying up, selling out, selling off
3, 2, 1, in others terms
Win a life sentence and a queen mum perm
The individuals that state
In a state of seige
Do pop and press and mix
Do tit's and news stew
The next one in the poor house could be you
Too busy saying "thank you" to say what for?
No time to spare - "spare me a dime"?
The Great Depression is organised crime
Their confessions are written in your blood
Kiss your ass an' dreams goodbye
Come back when you've learnt to cry
Too busy try'na be strong to
See how weak you are
Wave your flags and waive your fate
The freedom you claim is the one you hate
The victory you seek will never come
Brutal views through brutal eyes
See no future, hear no lies
Speak no truth to me or the people I love
When I grow up I want to be
All the things you've never been
And your opinion will count for none
Headed for the breakdown
Told when to sit don't know where you stand
Too busy recreating the past to
Live in the future
Poor relations to Uncle Sam
Bears no relation to the country man
Too busy being someone else to
Be who you really are
Shitty plastic prefab town
Mind where you walk when the sun goes down
Too busy hating others to even love your own
Bobbies on the beat again
Beating blacks for blues again
It's one way to get involved in the community
Love me, love my jeans
I must buy shares in Heinz baked beans
Too busy buying up, selling out, selling off
3, 2, 1, in others terms
Win a life sentence and a queen mum perm
The individuals that state
In a state of seige
Do pop and press and mix
Do tit's and news stew
The next one in the poor house could be you
Too busy saying "thank you" to say what for?
No time to spare - "spare me a dime"?
The Great Depression is organised crime
Their confessions are written in your blood
Kiss your ass an' dreams goodbye
Come back when you've learnt to cry
Too busy try'na be strong to
See how weak you are
Wave your flags and waive your fate
The freedom you claim is the one you hate
The victory you seek will never come
Brutal views through brutal eyes
See no future, hear no lies
Speak no truth to me or the people I love
When I grow up I want to be
All the things you've never been
And your opinion will count for none
Headed for the breakdown