- .
, ...
Pink Floyd "Final Cut". [ , ,
"" ( " , " : "A requiem for the post war dream by Roger Waters performed by Pink Floyd.") . - . , - (- , -, , --, ), .
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ink Floyd. The final cut. (p)1983
A requiem for the post war dream by Roger Waters performed by Pink Floyd
1. The post war drea
Tell me true tell me why was jesus crucified
Is it for this that daddy died?
Was it for you? Was it me?
Did I watch too much T.V.?
Is that a hint of accusation in your eyes?
If it wasn't for the nips
Being so good at building ships
The yards would still be open on the clyde
And it can't be much fun for them
Beneath the rising sun
With all their kids committing suicide
What have we done maggie what have we done
What have we done to england
Should we shout should we scream
"What happened to the post war dream?"
Oh maggie maggie what have we done?
2. You possible pasts
They flutter behind you your possible pasts
Some brighteyed and crazy some frightened and lost
A warining to anyone still in command
Of their possible future to take care
In dereliet siding the poppies entwine
With cattle trucks lying in wait for the next time
Do you remember me? How we used to be?
Do you think we should be closer?
She stood in the doorway the ghost of a smile
Haunting her face like a cheap hotel sign
Her cold eyes imploring the men in their macs
For the gold in their bags or the knives in their backs
Stepping up boldy one put out his hand
He said, "I was just a child then now I'm only a man"
Do you remember me? How we used to be?
Do you think we should be closer?
By the cold and religions we were taken in hand
Shown how to feel good and told to feel bad
Tongue tied and terrified we learned how to pray
Now our feelings run deep and cold as the clay
And string out behind us the banners and flags
Of our possible pasts lie in tatters and rags
Do you remember me? How we used to be?
Do you think we should be closer?
3. One of the few
When you're one of the few to land on your feet
What do you do to make ends meet?
Beach
Make them mad, make them sad, make them add two and two
Make them me, make them you,
make them do what you want them to
Make them laugh, make them cry, make them he down and die
4. The hero's retur
Jesus jesus what's it all about
Trying to clout these little ingrates into shape
When I was their age all the lights went out
There was no time to whine and mope about
And even now part of me flies over
Dresden at angels one five
Though they'll never fathom it behind my
Sarcasm desperate memories lie
Sweetheart sweetheart are you fast asleep, good
'cos that's the only time that I can really talk to you
And there is something that I've locked away
A memory that is too painful
To with stand the light or day
When we came back from the war the banners and
Flags hung on everyones door
We danced and we sang in the street and
The church bells rang
But burning in my heart
My memory smoulders on
Of the gunners dying words on the intercom
5. The gunners drea
Floating down through the clouds
Memories come rushing up to meet me now
In the space between the heavens
And in the corner of some forign field
I had a dream
I had a dream
Goodbye max
Goodbye ma
After the service when you're walking slowly to the car
And the silver in her hair shines in the cold november air
You hear the tolling bell
And touch the silk in your lapel
And as the kar drops rise to meet the comfort of the band
You take her frail hand
And hold on to the dream
A place to stay
Enough to eat
Somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And what's more no one ever disappears
You never hear their standard issue kicking in your door
You can relax on both sides of the tracks
And maniacs don't blow holes in bandsmen by remote control
And everyone has recourse to the law
And no one kills the children anymore
And no one kills the children anymore
Night after night
Going round and round my brain
His dream is driving me in sane
In the corner of some foreign field
The gunner sleeps tonight
Whats done is done
We cannot just write off his final scene
Take heed of his dream
Take heed
6. Paranoid eyes
Button your lip don't let the shield slip
Take a fresh grip on your billet proof mask
And if they try to break down your disquise will
their questions
You can hide hide hide
Behind paranoid eyes
You put on your brave face and slip over the road
for a jar
Fixing your grin as you casually lean on the bar
Laughing too loud at the rest of the world
With the boys in the crowd
You hide hide hide
Behind petrified eyes
You believed in their stories of fame fortune and glory
Now you're lost in a haze of alchohol soft middle age
The pie in the sky turned out to be miles too high
And you hide hide hide
Behind brown and mild eyes
7. Get your filthy hands off my desert
Brezhnev took afghanistan
Begin took beirut
Galtieri took the union jack
And maggie over lunch one day
Took a cruiser with all hands
Apparently to make him give it back
8. The fletcher memorial ho
Take all your overgrown infants away somewhere
And build them a home a little place of their own
The fletcher memorial
Home for incurable tyran sand kings
And they can appear to the selves every day
On closed circuit T.V.
To make sure they're still real
It's the only connection they feel
"ladies and gentlemenes, please, welcome reagan and haig
Mr. Begin and friends, ms. Teatcher and paisley
Mr. Brezhnev and part
The ghost of mccarthy
The memories of nixon
And now adding colour a group of anonymous latin
American meat packing glitterati"
Did they expect us to treat them with any respect
They can polish their medal and sharpen their
Smiles, and amuse themselves playing games for a while
Boom boom bang bang lie down you're dead
Safe in the permanent gaze a cold glass eye
With their favourite toys
They'll be good girls and boys
In the fletcher memorial home for colonial
Wasters of life and limo
Is every one in?
Are you having a nice time?
Now the final solution can happlied
9. South ampton dock
They disembarked in 45
And no one spoke and no one smiled
There were too many spaces on the line
Gathered at the cenotaph
All agree with the hand heart
To sheath the sacrificial knifes
But now
She stands upon south ampton dock
With her handkerchief
And her summer frock clings
To her wet body in the rain
In quiet desperation knuckles
White upon the slippery reins
She bravely waves the boy's goodbye again
And still the dark stain spreads between
His shoulder blades
A mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves
And when the fight was over
We spent what thay had mack
But in the bottom of our hearts
We felt the final cut
10. The final cut
Through the fish eyed lens of tear stained eyes
I can barely define the shape of this moment in time
And far from flying high in clear blue skies
I'm spiralling down to the hole in the ground where I hide
If you negotiate the minefield in the drive
And beat the dogs and cheat the cold electronic eyes
And if you make it past the shotgun in the hal
Dial the combination open the priest(?) hole
And if I'm in I'll tell you what's behind the wall
There's a kid who had a big hallucination
Making love to girls in magazines
He wonders if you're sleeping with your new found fail
Could anybody love him
Or is it just a crazy dream
And if I show you my dark side
Will you still hold me to night
And if I open my heart to you
And show you my weak side
What would you do
Would you sell your story to rolling stone
Would you take the children away
And leave me alone
And smile in reassurance
As you whisper down the phone
Would you send me packing
Or would you take me home
Thought I oughta bare my naked feelings
Thought I oughta tear the curtain down
Held the blade in trembling hands
Prepared to make it but just then the phone rang
I never had the nerve to make the final cut
11. Not now joh
Fuck all that we've got to get on with these
Got to compete with the wily japanese
There's too many home fires burning
And not enough frees
So, fuck, all that
We're got to get on with these
Can't stop lose job mind gone silicon
What bomb get away pag dog make hay
Breakdown need fix big six
Clickity click hold on oh no brrrrrrrrrring bingo!
Make em laugh make em cry make em dance in the aisles
Make em pay make em stay make em feel O.K.
Not now john
We've got to get on with the film show
Hollywood maits at the end of the rainbow
Who cares what it's about
As long as the kids go
Not now john
Got to get on with the show
Hang on john
We've got to get on with this
I don't know what it is
But it fits on here like
Come at the end of the shift
We'll go and get pissed
But not now john
I've got to get on with this
Hoold on john
I think there's something good on
I used to read books but
It could be the news
Or some other abuse
Or it could be reusable shows
Fuck all theat we've got to get on with these
Got to compete with the wily japanese
No need to worry about the vietnamese
Got to bring the russian bear to his kness
Well, maybe not the russian bear
Maybe the swedes
We showed argentina
Now eet's(?) go nad show these
Make us feel though
And wouldn't maggie be pleased
Nah nah nah nah nah nah!
S'cusi dove it bar
Se para collo pou eine foe bar
S'il vous plait ou est le bar
Oi where's the fucking bar john!
12. Two suns in the sunset
In my rear view mirror the sun is going down
Sinking behind bridges in the road
And I think of all the good things
That we have left undone
And I suffer premonitions
Coufirm suspicions
Of the holocaust to came
The wire that holds the cork
That kecjos(?) the anger in
Give way
And suddenly it's day again
The sun is in the east
Even though the day is done
Two suns in the sunset
Hmmmmmmm
Cold be the human race in run
Like the moment when the brakes lock
And you slide towards the big truck
You stretck the frozen moments with your fear
And you'll never hear their voices
And you'll never see their faces
You have no recourse to the law anymore
And as the windshield melts
My tears evaporate
Leaving only charcoal to defend
Finally I understand
The feelings of the few
Ashes and diamonds
Foe and friend
We were all equal in the end
:
. (The final cut)
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From: Serge Kozmin
Final Cut:
PF "The Final Cut" " ". , .. , - ..
, , "The Final Cut"
:
'The final cut' - refers to the finished form of the film. Once a film is shot, it goes through the editing process where all the shots are put together. Forgive me if I am being too simplistic, I just don't know how much you know about the filmmaking process. Anyway, the first time an editor puts all the shots together then you have the 'first cut' or the 'assembly', which is usually much longer than the final version. Then over the course of the editing process shots are cut out or shortened or entire scenes are cut out. This is done and redone until both the producers of the film are happy and the director is happy, and once all of the editing is done then you have the 'final cut', it may the 10th cut of the film or the 100th, it just depends. For some films there are actually two versions, such as 'Blade Runner', there is the Producer's Cut and then there's the Director's Cut, just referring to the way each chose to edit the film.
Anyway, I hope that I have answered your question adequately.
"The Final Cut" - " ". ....
Best regards,
Serge mailto:serge.kozmin@mtu-net.ru
( .):
http://www.ingsoc.com/waters/lyrics/index.html
The Post War Dream
"...announced plans to build a nuclear fallout shelter at
Peterborough in Cambridgeshire..."
(change channels)
"...It was announced today
That the replacement for the Atlantic
Conveyor the container ship
Lost in the Falklands conflict would be
built in Japan, a spokesman for..."
(change channels)
"...moving in.
They say the third world countries
Like Bolivia, which produce the drug
Are suffering from rising violence...(fades)"
Tell me true, tell me why was Jesus crucified
Is it for this that daddy died?
Was it for you?
Was it me?
Did I watch too much TV?
Is that a hint of accusation in your eyes
If it wasn't for the nips
Being so good at building ships
The yards would still be open on the clyde
And it can't be much fun for them
Beneath the rising sun
With all their kids committing suicide
What have we done?
Maggie, what have we done?
What have we done to england?
Should we shout?
Should we scream?
What happened to the post war dream?
Oh maggie
Maggie, what did we do?
----------------------------------------------
Your Possible Pasts
They flutter behind you, your possible pasts
Some bright-eyed and crazy
Some frightened and lost
A warning to anyone still in command
[Commander:] "Ranks, Fire!"
Of their possible future, to take care
In derilict sidings the poppies entwine
With cattle trucks lying in wait for the next time
Do you remember me?
How we used to be?
Do you thing we should be closer?
She stood in the doorway the ghost of a smile
Haunting her face like a cheap hotel sign
Her cold eyes imploring the men in their macs
For the gold in their bags or the knives in their backs
Stepping up boldly one put out his hand
He said, I was just a child then
Now I'm only a man
Do you remember me?
How we used to be?
Do you thing we should be close?
By the cold and religious we were taken in hand
Shown how to feel good and told to feel bad
Strung out behind us the banners and flags
Of our possible pasts lie in tatters and rags
Do you remember me?
How we used to be?
Do you thing we should be closer?
----------------------------------------------
One of the Few
When you're one of the few
To land on your feet
What do you do to make ends meet?
Teach
Make 'em mad
Make 'em sad
Make 'em add two and two
Make 'em me
Or make 'em you
Make 'em do what you want them to
Make 'em laugh
Make 'em cry
Make 'em lay down and die
----------------------------------------------
The Hero's Return
Jesus, Jesus
What's it all about?
Trying to clout these little ingrates into shape
When I was their age all the lights went out
There was no time to whine and mope about
And even now part of me flies
Over dresden at angels one five
Though they'll never fathom it behind my
Sarcasm desperate memories lie
Sweetheart, sweetheart
Are you fast asleep?
Good
That's the only time that I can really speak to you
And there is something that I've locked away
A memory that is too painful
To withstand the light of day
When we came back from the war
The banners and flags hung on everyone's door
We danced and we sang in the street
And the church bells rang
But the burning in my heart
My memory smoulders on
Of the gunner's dying words
On the intercom
(gunner's words on intercom...)
----------------------------------------------
The Gunner's Dream
Floating down
Through the clouds
Memories come rushing up to meet me now
But in the space between the heavens
And in the corner of some foreign field
I had a dream
I had a dream
Goodbye Max
Goodbye Ma
After the service
When you're walking slowly to the car
And the silver in her hair shines in the cold november air
You hear the tolling bell
And touch the silk in your lapel
And as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band
You take her frail hand
And hold on to the dream
A place to stay
[Bloke:] "Oi! A real one..."
Enough to eat
Somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And what's more
No-one ever disappears
You never hear their standard issue
Kicking in your door
You can relax on both sides of the tracks
And maniacs don't blow holes in bandsmen by remote control
And everyone has recourse to the law
And no-one kills the children anymore
No-one kills the children anymore
Night after night
Going round and round my brain
His dream is driving me insane
In the corner of some foreign field
The gunner sleeps tonight
What's done is done
We cannot just write off his final scene
Take heed of the dream
Take heed
----------------------------------------------
Paranoid Eyes
Button your lip
And don't let the shield slip
Take a fresh grip on your bullet proof mask
And if they try to break down your disguise with their questions
You can hide, hide, hide
Behind paranoid eyes
You put on your brave face and slip over the road for a jar
Fixing your grin as you casually lean on the bar
Laughing too loud at the rest of the world
With the boys in the crowd
You hide, hide, hide
[Man1:]"I'll tell you what
I'll give you three blacks
and play you for five..."
[Man2:]"Ta! You was unlucky there son."
[Man3:]"Time Gentlemen."
Behind petrified eyes
You believed in their stories of fame fortune and glory
Now you're lost in a haze of alchohol soft middle age
The pie in the sky turned out to be miles too high
And you hide, hide, hide
Behind brown and mild eyes
[Bloke:] "Oi!"
----------------------------------------------
Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Desert
(Soft) [Man1:] "Oi, Get your filthy hands off my desert!"
[Man2:] "What 'e say?"
(explosion)
Brezhnev took afghanistan
And Begin took beirut
Galtieri took the union jack
And maggie over lunch one day
Took a cruiser with all hands
Apparently, to make him give it back
----------------------------------------------
The Fletcher Memorial Home
Take all your overgrown infants away somewhere
And build them a home
A little place of their own
The fletcher memorial
Home for incurable tyrants and kings
And they can appear to themselves every day
On closed circuit TV
To make sure they're still real
It's the only connection they feel
Ladies and gentlemen
Please welcome
Reagan and Haig
Mr. Begin and friend
Mrs. Thatcher and Paisley
[Man:] "Hello Maggie."
Mr. Brezhnev and party
[Man:] (can't tell)
The ghost of McCarthy
And the memories of Nixon
And now adding colour
[Man:] "Who's the bald chap?"
A group of anonymous latin
American meat packing glitterati
Did they expect us to treat them with any respect?
They can polish their medals
And sharpen their smiles
And amuse themselves
Playing games for a while
Boom, boom
Bang, bang
Lie down you're dead
Safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye
Their favourite toy
They'll be good girls and boys
In the fletcher memorial home for colonial
Wasters of life and limb
Is everyone in?
Are you having a nice time?
[Man:] "??good day??"
Now the final solution can be applied
----------------------------------------------
Southampton Dock
They disembarked in 45
And no one spoke
And no one smiled
There were too many spaces in the line
And gathered at the cenotaph
All agreed with hand on heart
To sheath the sacrificial knives
But now
She stands upon southampton dock
With her handkerchief
And her summer frock
Clings To her wet body in the rain
In quiet desperation
Knuckles White upon the slippery reins
She bravely waves the boys goodbye again
And still the dark stain spreads between
Their shoulder blades
A mute reminder
Of the poppy fields and graves
When the fight was over
We spent what they had made
But
In the bottom of our hearts
We felt the final cut
----------------------------------------------
The Final Cut
Through the fish eyed lens
Of tear stained eyes
I can barely define
The shape of this moment in time
And far from flying high
In clear blue skies
I'm spiralling down
To the hole in the ground
Where I hide
If you negotiate the minefield in the drive
And beat the dogs
And cheat the cold electronic eyes
And if you make it past the shotguns in the hall
Dial the combination
Open the priesthole
And if I'm in I'll tell you wha...
(Explosion)
[Man:]"Woohoo"
There's a kid who had a big hallucination
Making love to girls in magazines
He wonders if you're sleeping
With your new found faith
Could anybody love him?
Or is it just a crazy dream?
And if I show you my dark side
Will you still hold me tonight?
And if I open my heart to you
And show you my weak side
What would you do?
Would you sell your story to rolling stone?
Would you take the children away?
And leave me alone
And smile in reassurance
As you whisper down the phone
Would you send me packing?
Or would you take me home?
Thought I oughta bare my naked feelings
Thought I oughta tear the curtain down
I held the blade in trembling hands
Prepared to make it, but
Just then the phone rang
I never had the nerve to make the final cut
[Man:] "Hello? Listen
I think I've got it.
Ok, listen its a haha!"
----------------------------------------------
Not Now John
Fuck all that
We've got to get on with these
Got to compete with the wily Japanese
There's too many home fires burning
And not enough trees
So fuck all that
We've got to get on with these
Can't stop
Lose job
Mind gone
Silicon
??Stallon??
What bomb
Get away
Pay day
Make hay
Break down
Need fix
Big six
Clickity click
Hold on
Oh no
Bingo
Make 'em laugh
Make 'em cry
Make 'em dance in the aisles
Make 'em pay
Make 'em stay
Make 'em feel ok
Not now john
We've got to get on with the film show
Hollywood waits at the end of the rainbow
Who cares what it's all about
As long as the kids go
So not now John
We've got to get on with the show
Hang on John
I've got to get on with this
I don't know what it is
But it fits on here like this...
Come at the end of the shift
We'll go and get pissed
But not now John
I've got to get on with this
Hold on John
I think there's something good on
I used to read books but ????
It could be the news or
Some other abuse or
It could be reusable shows
Fuck all that
We've got to get on with these
Got to compete with the wily Japanese
No need to worry about the Vietnamese
Got to bring the Russian Bear to his knees
Well, maybe not the Russian Bear
Maybe the Swedes
We showed Argentina
Now lets go and show these
Make us feel tough
And wouldn't Maggie be pleased
Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah!
One, two, three, four
[Man1:] "S'cusi dove il bar"
[Man2:] "What?"
[Man1:] "Se para collo pou eine toe bar
S'il vous plait ou est le bar"
[Man2:] "...say it in English!..."
[Man1:] "Oi', where's the fucking bar john?"
[Man2:] "Oh, now you're talking!"
Oh! Rule Britannia
Britannia rules the day
Down
Go, Maggie
Hammer, hammer, hammer, hammer, now
----------------------------------------------
Two Suns In the Sunset
In my rear view mirror
The sun is going down
Sinking behind bridges in the road
I think of all the good things
That we have left undone
And I suffer premonitions
Confirm suspicions
Of the holocaust to come
The rusty wire that holds the cork
That keeps the anger in
Gives way
And suddenly, it's day again
The sun is in the east
Even though the day is done
Two suns in the sunset
Could be the human race is run
Like the moment when your brakes lock
And you slide toward the big truck
[Man:] "Oh, no."
And stretch the frozen moments with your fear
And you'll never hear their voices
[Child:] "Daddy, Daddy"
And you'll never see their faces
You have no recourse to the law anymore
(children screaming)
And as the windshield melts
And my tears evaporate
Leaving only charcoal to defend
Finally, I understand
The feelings of the few
Ashes and diamonds
Foe and friend
We were all equal in the end
[radio:] "...and now the weather.
Tomorrow will be cloudy with
Scattered showers from the east...
With an expected high
Of 4000 degrees Celcius"
:
1. Inside Out: A Personal History Of Pink Floyd > 10 " "
Inside Out: A Personal History Of Pink Floyd
10 " "
(Communications failure)
10 "Inside Out: A Personal History Of Pink Floyd"
: Vladimir_G
The Final Cut
, The Wall , , . , , . , , , . .
Pink Floyd, 1968, . : , (Franka), , . , .
1982 The Wall . . , , -, - , . , , , , , ...
, , . : , , . , , , .
, The Final Cut "Spare Bricks" , , . , . , . The Final Cut A Requiem For The Postwar Dream . , The Wall, . , , . , .
. 1982 - , " , "; -, , , . The Final Cut , .
, , , . , - . , , . , , . , - .
, . , . , , , , , , , . , . " " , , .
, . , , , Not Now John, . . , , " Pink Floyd".
. " ", - : , . ( ) , . , , , , , , , , , , , , .
, , , , , . . . , , . , , . , , .
, , , . -, . , , , ...
, , , . , . . . , . The Wall, , .
Michael Kamen, 1948-2003
The Final Cut Mayfair Primrose Hill . , , , . , Olympic, RAK, Eel Pie , . , "Billiard Room", , 24- ...
Britannia Row, , , , . , , Britannia Row: , . Mayfair, , , , , .
The Final Cut Billiard Room , : " , . . . , . . - , - ".
, , , . " , , , - , . , , : "I must not fuck sheep" " ". , , " " ".
, , . : "Am I really cost effective?" " ?". ( ), . : "PEEHS KCUF TON TSUM I"... , , , , .
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EMI/Harvest 8 31242 2; Harvest SHPF 1983; Harvest CDP 7 446129 2; 21 1983
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A requiem for the post war dream by Roger Waters performed by Pink Floyd
For Eric Fletcher Waters 1913 -1944
:
When you're one of the Few to land on your feet
What do you do to make ends meet?
Teach
Make them mad, make them sad, make them add two and two
Make them me, make them you, make them do what you want them to
Make them laugh, make them cry, make them lie down and die
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P.S.
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==========================================
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4.Perfect Sense, Part II ( , II) 2:50
5.The Bravery of Being Out of Range ( ) 4:43
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7.Late Home Tonight, Part II ( , II) 2:13
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9.What God Wants, Part II ( , II) 3:41
10.What God Wants, Part III ( , III) 4:08
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. : [url]http://bobclose.narod.ru/ca_ira_intro.html
CA IRA
Etienne & Nadine Roda-Gil
(Nick Sedgwick, Introduction to 'CA IRA SACD/bonus DVD' booklet, 2005)
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2004 , To Kill The Child Leaving Beirut. 2003. : ! ! , , , (. "Oh George! Oh George! That Texas education must have fucked you up when you were very small") ( Leaving Beirut).
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To Kill The Child ( .)
To Kill The Child
The child lay
In the starlit night
Safe in the glow of his Donald Duck light
How strange to choose to take a life
How strange to choose to kill a child
Hoover, Blaupunkt, Nissan Jeep
Nike, Addidas, Lacoste and cheaper brands
Cadillac, Amtrak, gasoline, diesel
Our standard of living, could this be a reason
That we would choose to kill the child
That we would choose to kill the child
Allah, Jehovah, Buddah, Christ
Confucius and Kali and reds, beans and rice
Goujons of sole, ris de veau, ham hocks
Lox bagels and bones and commandments in stone
The Bible, Koran, Shinto, Islam
Prosciutto, risotto, falafel and ham
Is it dogma, doughnuts, ridicule faith
Fear of the dark, or shame or disgrace
That we would choose to kill the child
That we would choose to kill the child
It's cold in the desert
And the space is too big
The rope is too short
And the walls are too thick
I will show you no weakness
I will mock you in song
Berate and deride you
Belittle and chide you
Beat you with sticks
And bulldoze your home
You can watch my triumphant procession to Rome
Best seat in the house
Up there on the cross
Is it anger or envy, profit or loss
That we would choose to kill the child
That we would choose to kill the child
Take this child and hold him closely
Keep him safe from the holy reign of terror
Take this child hold him closely
Take this child to the moral high ground
Where he can look down on the bigots and bully boys
Slugging it out in the yard
Lyrics by Roger Waters
(c) 2004 Roger Waters Music Overseas Ltd./Pink Floyd Music Publishers Ltd.
Leaving Beirut ( . )
Leaving Beirut
So we left Beirut Willa and I
He headed East to Baghdad and the rest of it
I set out North
I walked the five or six miles to the last of the street lamps
And hunkered in the curb side dusk
Holding out my thumb
In no great hope at the ramshackle procession of home bound traffic
Success!
An ancient Mercedes 'dolmus '
The ubiquitous, Arab, shared taxi drew up
I turned out my pockets and shrugged at the driver
" J'ai pas de l'argent "
" Venez! " A soft voice from the back seat
The driver lent wearily across and pushed open the back door
I stooped to look inside at the two men there
One besuited, bespectacled, moustached, irritated, distant, late
The other, the one who had spoken,
Frail, fifty five-ish, bald, sallow, in a short sleeved pale blue cotton shirt
With one biro in the breast pocket
A clerk maybe, slightly sunken in the seat
"Venez!" He said again, and smiled
"Mais j'ai pas de l'argent"
"Oui, Oui, d'accord, Venez!"
----------------------------------------------
Are these the people that we should bomb
Are we so sure they mean us harm
Is this our pleasure, punishment or crime
Is this a mountain that we really want to climb
The road is hard, hard and long
Put down that two by four
This man would never turn you from his door
Oh George! Oh George!
That Texas education must have fucked you up when you were very small
----------------------------------------------
He beckoned with a small arthritic motion of his hand
Fingers together like a child waving goodbye
The driver put my old Hofner guitar in the boot with my rucksack
And off we went
" Vous etes Francais, monsieur? "
" Non, Anglais "
" Ah! Anglais "
" Est-ce que vous parlais Anglais, Monsieur? "
"Non, je regrette"
And so on
In small talk between strangers, his French alien but correct
Mine halting but eager to please
A lift, after all, is a lift
Late moustache left us brusquely
And some miles later the dolmus slowed at a crossroads lit by a single lightbulb
Swung through a U-turn and stopped in a cloud of dust
I opened the door and got out
But my benefactor made no move to follow
The driver dumped my guitar and rucksack at my feet
And waving away my thanks returned to the boot
Only to reappear with a pair of alloy crutches
Which he leaned against the rear wing of the Mercedes.
He reached into the car and lifted my companion out
Only one leg, the second trouser leg neatly pinned beneath a vacant hip
" Monsieur, si vous voulez, ca sera un honneur pour nous
Si vous venez avec moi a la maison pour manger avec ma femme "
----------------------------------------------
When I was 17 my mother, bless her heart, fulfilled my summer dream
She handed me the keys to the car
We motored down to Paris, fuelled with Dexedrine and booze
Got bust in Antibes by the cops
And fleeced in Naples by the wops
But everyone was kind to us, we were the English dudes
Our dads had helped them win the war
When we all knew what we were fighting for
But now an Englishman abroad is just a US stooge
The bulldog is a poodle snapping round the scoundrel's last refuge
-----------------------------------------------
"Ma femme", thank God! Monopod but not queer
The taxi drove off leaving us in the dim light of the swinging bulb
No building in sight
What the hell
"Merci monsieur"
"Bon, Venez!"
His faced creased in pleasure, he set off in front of me
Swinging his leg between the crutches with agonising care
Up the dusty side road into the darkness
After half an hour we'd gone maybe half a mile
When on the right I made out the low profile of a building
He called out in Arabic to announce our arrival
And after some scuffling inside a lamp was lit
And the changing angle of light in the wide crack under the door
Signalled the approach of someone within
The door creaked open and there, holding a biblical looking oil lamp
Stood a squat, moustached woman, stooped smiling up at us
She stood aside to let us in and as she turned
I saw the reason for her stoop
She carried on her back a shocking hump
I nodded and smiled back at her in greeting, fighting for control
The gentleness between the one-legged man and his monstrous wife
Almost too much for me
----------------------------------------------
Is gentleness too much for us
Should gentleness be filed along with empathy
We feel for someone else's child
Every time a smart bomb does its sums and gets it wrong
Someone else's child dies and equities in defence rise
America, America, please hear us when we call
You got hip-hop, be-bop, hustle and bustle
You got Atticus Finch
You got Jane Russell
You got freedom of speech
You got great beaches, wildernesses and malls
Don't let the might, the Christian right, fuck it all up
For you and the rest of the world
----------------------------------------------
They talked excitedly
She went to take his crutches in routine of care
He chiding, gestured
We have a guest
She embarrassed by her faux pas
Took my things and laid them gently in the corner
"Du the?"
We sat on meagre cushions in one corner of the single room
The floor was earth packed hard and by one wall a raised platform
Some six foot by four covered by a simple sheet, the bed
The hunchback busied herself with small copper pots over an open hearth
And brought us tea, hot and sweet
And so to dinner
Flat, unleavened bread, + thin
Cooked in an iron skillet over the open hearth
Then folded and dipped into the soft insides of female sea urchins
My hostess did not eat, I ate her dinner
She would hear of nothing else, I was their guest
And then she retired behind a curtain
And left the men to sit drinking thimbles full of Arak
Carefully poured from a small bottle with a faded label
Soon she reappeared, radiant
Carrying in her arms their pride and joy, their child.
I'd never seen a squint like that
So severe that as one eye looked out the other disappeared behind its nose
----------------------------------------------
Not in my name, Tony, you great war leader you
Terror is still terror, whosoever gets to frame the rules
History's not written by the vanquished or the damned
Now we are Genghis Khan, Lucretia Borghia, Son of Sam
In 1961 they took this child into their home
I wonder what became of them
In the cauldron that was Lebanon
If I could find them now, could I make amends?
How does the story end?
----------------------------------------------
And so to bed, me that is, not them
Of course they slept on the floor behind a curtain
Whilst I lay awake all night on their earthen bed
Then came the dawn and then their quiet stirrings
Careful not to wake the guest
I yawned in great pretence
And took the proffered bowl of water heated up and washed
And sipped my coffee in its tiny cup
And then with much "merci-ing" and bowing and shaking of hands
We left the woman to her chores
And we men made our way back to the crossroads
The painful slowness of our progress accentuated by the brilliant morning light
The dolmus duly reappeared
My host gave me one crutch and leaning on the other
Shook my hand and smiled
"Merci, monsieur," I said
" De rien "
" And merci a votre femme, elle est tres gentille "
Giving up his other crutch
He allowed himself to be folded into the back seat again
"Bon voyage, monsieur," he said
And half bowed as the taxi headed south towards the city
I turned North, my guitar over my shoulder
And the first hot gust of wind
Quickly dried the salt tears from my young cheeks.
Lyrics by Roger Waters
(c) 2004 Roger Waters Music Overseas Ltd./Pink Floyd Music Publishers Ltd.
================================================== ===========
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1967 Piper At The Gates Of A Down
1968 A Saucerful of Secrets
1969 Music From the Film More
1969 Ummagumma
1970 Atom Heart Mother
1971 Meddle
1972 Obscured By Clouds
1973 Dark Side Of The Moon
1975 Wish You Were Here
1977 Animals
1979 The Wall
1983 The Final Cut
:
1970 The Body () ( )
1984 The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking
1986 When the Wind Blows
1987 Radio K.A.O.S.
1990 The Wall Live in Berlin
1992 Amused to Death
2000 In the Flesh Live
2003 Flickering Flame: The Solo Years Vol. 1
2005 Ça Ira
2009 Lost boys calling
, :
1970 The Body () ( )
1986 When the Wind Blows
2003 Flickering Flame: The Solo Years Vol. 1
2009 Lost boys calling