So we sit and smoke rollies til we make ourselves sick and get takeaway on Friday and eat ourselves sick and on Saturday order ten different spirits
in one glass, and we drink ourselves sick and on Sunday we wonder why we feel so incomplete like we were meant for more
like a parliamentary seat or some extraordinary feat
like smashing through concrete or a particularly successful retweet
from someone like Ricky Gervais but today doesn’t feel like that day
so we wait for our big break to hit us in the face but it doesn’t really matter cos Jezza’s on the telly
and the fella on it’s racist and the girls got a black baby from a man
whose caucasian while the mother mouths off at the next door neighbour who claims he might be the dad
and looks like he drank more before the show than we ever have.
So we sit and watch life pass us by can’t even begin to try can’t get the motivation to feel an emotion
other than apathy for our fellow man because he made mistake we feel we never can
and as the years slip past we judge and judge until it’s us sat in the TV studio circus and we cry ‘Where did it all go wrong?
I used to be strong I knew right from wrong
It doesn’t feel long since I was where you are now
wondering how a person can fall so far,
since I was stood where you are with the feathers and tar.
‘Cos we’re on a slippery slope and our only hope
is to keep on climbing even though it’s hard.
If it were easy we’d all be Mother Teresa If it were simple we’d all be Nelson Mandela
If there was no risk in fighting we’d all be Che Guevara
but we’re not. We’re us.
And that’s no better or worse, This moment is ground zero,
you don’t have to be a hero, you just got to do something;
craft, create, make … ‘Join us after the commercial break
when I talk to an extremist BNP Christian bore and his daughter, and STD riddled junky whore.’ Well, maybe just one more,
because it’s all just T.V, and at least its not me.