Animals

Pigs on the Wing (Part One)

If you didn't care what happened to me,

And I didn't care for you

We would zig zag our way through the boredom and pain

Occasionally glancing up through the rain

Wondering which of the buggers to blame

And watching for pigs on the wing.

Dogs

You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need

You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you're on the street

You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed

And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight

You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking.

And after a while, you can work on points for style

Like the club tie, and the firm handshake

A certain look in the eye, and an easy smile

You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to

So that when they turn their backs on you

You'll get the chance to put the knife in.

You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder

You know it's going to get harder, and harder, and harder as you get older

And in the end you'll pack up, fly down south

Hide your head in the sand

Just another sad old man

All alone and dying of cancer.

And when you loose control, you'll reap the harvest that you've sown

And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone

And it's too late to loose the weight you used to need to throw around

So have a good drown, as you go down, alone

Dragged down by the stone.

I gotta admit that I'm a little bit confused

Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm just being used

Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise

If I don't stand my own ground, how can I find my way out of this maze?

Deaf, dumb, and blind, you just keep on pretending

That everyone's expendable and no-one has a real friend

And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner

And everythings done under the sun

And you believe at heart, everyone's a killer.

Who was born in a house full of pain

Who was trained not to spit in the fan

Who was told what to do by the man

Who was broken by trained personnel

Who was fitted with collar and chain

Who was given a pat on the back

Who was breaking away from the pack

Who was only a stranger at home

Who was ground down in the end

Who was found dead on the phone

Who was dragged down by the stone.

Pigs (Three different ones)

Big man, pig man, ha ha, charade you are

You well heeled big wheel, ha ha, charade you are

And when your hand is on your heart

You're nearly a good laugh

Almost a joker

With your head down in the pig bin

Saying "keep on digging"

Pig stain on your fat chin

What do you hope to find?

When you're down in the pig mine

You're nearly a laugh

You're nearly a laugh

But you're really a cry.

Bus stop rat bag, ha ha, charade you are

You fucked up old hag, ha ha, charade you are

You radiate cold shafts of broken glass

You're nearly a good laugh

Almost worth a quick grin

You like the feel of steel

You're hot stuff with a hat pin

And good fun with a hand gun

You're nearly a laugh

You're nearly a laugh

But you're really a cry.

Hey you Whitehouse, ha ha, charade you are

You house proud town mouse, ha ha, charade you are

You're trying to keep our feelings off the street

You're nearly a real treat

All tight lips and cold feet

And do you feel abused?

.....!.....!.....!.....!

You gotta stem the evil tide

And keep it all on the inside

Mary you're nearly a treat

Mary you're nearly a treat

But you're really a cry.

Sheep

Harmlessly passing your time in the grassland away

Only dimly aware of a certain unease in the air

You better watch out

There may be dogs about

I've looked over Jordan and I have seen

Things are not what they seem.

What do you get for pretending the danger's not real

Meek and obedient you follow the leader

Down well trodden corridors into the valley of steel

What a surprise!

A look of terminal shock in your eyes

Now things are really what they seem

No, this is no bad dream.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want

He makes me down to lie

Through pastures green he leadeth me the silent waters by

With bright knives he releaseth my soul

He maketh me to hang on hooks in high places

He converteth me to lamb cutlets

For lo,m he hath great power and great hunger

When cometh the day we lowly ones

Through quiet reflection and great dedication

Master the art of karate

Lo, we shall rise up

And then we'll make the bugger's eyes water.

Bleating and babbling I fell on his neck with a scream

Wave upon wave of demented avengers

March cheerfully out of obscurity into the dream.

Have you heard the news?

The dogs are dead!

You better stay home

And do as you're told

Get out of the road if you want to grow old.

Pigs on the Wing (Part Two)

You know that I care what happens to you

And I know that you care for me

So I don't feel alone

Or the weight of the stone

Now that I've found somewhere safe

To bury my bone

And any fool knows a dog needs a home

A shelter from pigs on the wing.