Confessions of a Pop Group

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 tits 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