They talked to the sister, the father and the mother With a microphone in one hand and a chequebook in the other And the camera noses in to the tears on her face The tears on her face The tears on her face You can put them back together with your paper and paste But you cant put them back together You cant put them back together Chorus: What would you say? What would you do? Children and animals two by two Give me the needle Give me the rope Were going to melt them down for pills and soap Four and twenty crowbars jemmy your desire Out of the frying pan, into the fire The king is in the counting house Some folk have all the luck And all we get is pictures of Lord and Lady Muck They come from lovely people with a hard line in hypocrisy There are ashtrays of emotion for the fag ends of the aristocracy (Chorus) Give me the needle Give me the rope The sugar-coated pill is getting bitterer still You think your country needs you, but you know it never will So pack up your troubles in a stolen handbag Dont dilly-dally boys, rally round the flag Give us our daily bread in individual slices And something in the daily rag to cancel any crisis (Chorus) Give me the needle, give me the rope Were going to melt them down for pills and soap (from > Punch The Clock, 1983)
Posted on: Tue, 24 Jun 2014 02:20:49 +0000
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