1. BATA MOTEL

Little girls, of about six or seven, were asked what do they like to do. And then sometime later the same question asked in a slightly different form; they were asked what do little girls like to do.

I've got 54321,
I've got a red pair of high-heels on,
Tumble me over, it doesn't take much,
Tumble me over, tumble me, push.
In my red high-heels I've no control,
The rituals of repression are so old,
You can do what you like, there'll be no reprisal,
I'm yours, yes I'm yours, it's my means of survival.

I've got 54321,
Come on my love, I know you're strong,
Push me hard, make me stagger,
The pain in my back just doesn't matter.
You force-hold me above the ground,
I can't get away, my feet are bound,
So I'm bound to say,
That I'm bound to stay.

Well today I look so good,
Just like I know I should,
My breasts to tempt inside my bra,
My face is painted like a movie star,
I've studied my flaws in your reflection
And put them to rights with savage correction,
I've turned my statuesque perfection
And shone it over in your direction.
So come on darling, make me yours,
Trip me over, show me the floor,
Tease me, tease me, make me stay,
In my red high-heels I can't get away.
I'm trussed and bound like an oven ready bird
But I bleed without dying and won't say a word.
Slice my flesh and I'll ride the scar,
Put me into gear like your lady car,
Drive me fast and crash me crazy,
I'll rise from the wreckage as fresh as a daisy.
These wouds leave furrows as they heal,
I've travelled them, they're red and real,
I know them well, they're part of me,
My birth, my sex, my history,
They grew with me, my closest friend,
My pain's my own, my pain's my end.
Clip my wings so you know where I am.
I can't get lost while you're my man.
Tame me so I know your call,
I've stabbed my heels so I am tall,
I've bound my twisted falling fall,
Beautiful mute against the wall,
Beautifully mutilated as I fall.
Use me don't lose me.

I've got 54321,
I've got a red pair of high-heels on.
Strap my ankles, break my heels,
Make me kneel, make me feel.
Turn, turn, turn, like a clockwork doll,
Put in your key and give me a whirl.
Tease me, tease me, the reason to play,
In my red high-heels I can't get away.
I'll be your bonsai, your beautiful bonsai,
Your black-eye bonsai, erotically rotting.
Will my tiny feet fit your desire?
Warped and tied I walk on fire.
Burn me out, twist my wrists,
I promise not to shout, beat me with your fists.
Squeeze me, squeeze me, make me feel,
In my red high-heels I'm an easy kill.
Tease me, tease me, make me see,
You're the only one, I need to be me.
Thankyou, will you take me?
Thankyou, will you make me?
Thankyou, will you break me?
Use me don't lose me,
Taste me, don't waste me.
Use, lose, taste, waste.


2. SYSTEMATIC DEATH

System, system, system.
Death in life.
System, system, system.
The surgeons knife.
System, system, system.
Hacking at the cord.
System, system, system.
A child is born.

Poor little fucker, poor little kid,
Never asked for life, no she never did.
Poor little baby, poor little mite,
Crying out for food as her parents fight.
Crying out for food as her parents fight.

System, system, system.
Send him to school.
System, system, system.
Force him to crawl.
System, system, system.
Teach him how to cheat.
System, system, system.
Kick him off his feet.

Poor little schoolboy, poor little lad,
They'll pat him if he's good and they'll beat him if he's bad.
Poor little kiddy, poor little chap,
They'll force feed his mind with their useless crap.
They'll force feed his mind with their useless crap.

System, system, system.
They'll teach her how to cook.
System, system, system.
Teach her how to look.
System, system, system.
They'll teach her all the tricks,
System, system, system.
Create another victim for their greasy pricks.

Poor little girly, poor little wench,
Another little object to prod and pinch.
Poor little sweety, poor little filly,
They'll fuck her mind so they can fuck her silly.
They'll fuck her mind so they can fuck her silly.

System, system, system.
He's grown to be a man.
System, system, system.
Taugh to fit the plan.
System, system, system.
Forty years of jobs.
System, system, system.
Pushing little buttons, pulling little knobs.

Poor fucking worker, poor little serf,
Working like a mule for half of what he's worth.
Poor fucking grafter, poor little gent,
Working for the cash that he's already spent.
Working for the cash that he's already spent.

He's selling his life,
She's his loyal wife,
Timid as a mouse,
She's got her litlle house,
He's got his little car,
And they share the cocktail bar
She likes to cook his meals,
You know, something that appeals.
Sometimes he works til late
So his supper has to wait,
But she doesn't really mind
Cos he's getting overtime.
He likes to put a bit away
Just for that rainy day,
Cos every little counts
As the cost of living mounts.
They do the pools each week
Hoping for that lucky break.
Then they'd take a trip abroad,
Do all the things they can't afford.
She'd really like to have a fur,
He's like a bigger car.
They could buy a bungalow,
With a Georgian door for show.
He might think of leaving work,
But no, he wouldn't like a shirk.
He'd much prefer to stay
And get his honest days pay.
He's got a life of work ahead,
There's no rest for the dead.
She's tried to make it nice,
He's said thankyou once or twice.

System, system, system.
Deprived of any hope.
System, system, system.
Taught they couldn't cope.
System, system, system.
Slaves right from the start.
System, system, system.
Til death do them part.

Poor little fuckers, what a sorry pair,
Had their lives stolen, but they didn't really care.
Poor little darlings, just your ordinary folks,
Victims of the system and it's cruel jokes.
Victims of the system and it's cruel jokes.

The couple views the wreckage
And dreams of home sweet home,
They'd almost paid the mortgage,
Then the system dropped its bomb.


3. POISON IN A PRETTY PILL

Your tactile eyes is running over glossy paper,
Printed on with tactile lies of glaze and gause.
They say, "Forget yourself, adorn with this disguise",
This womanhood of smooth and tampered whores.
Let me warn you of their cold sensitivity,
They'll have you gathered in a trap of glass.
Is your reflection all that you will recognise?
That cruel lie will stare you in the face.
Wrapped up in haze and flow of bridal gown,
They tell your lover he must hold a gun.
You're the pornographic reassurance he's a man,
They deal with flesh, incarcerate with rags,
Red lips, shimmer-silk and body-bags,
Hairless legs against the blistered napalms burn.
I want to rape the substance of your downy hair,
In that mist a gutted child fights for air.

Against the fragile, mashed and sweaty wound
Your facile beauty has an outrageous sound,
Like a glamour billboard on a battlefield.
At least the blood-red poppy was of nature will,
That flower perfecting by the barbed wire fence
Must be insulted by your scented poor pretence
Just as I, who finds it hard to touch you now,
You traumatise my love with needle doubts,
I want so gently to remove your mask.
It's hard enough to find water here
In this barrenness of dishonesty and fear
Without you accepting poison in a pretty pill.
Your bondages of silky robes and lace
Are the bandages on a bullet punctured corpses,
The layers of precious imitation worn
Are the layers of history to suffocate the unborn.

Poison, poison, poison, poison
Poison, poison, poison, poison
Poison in a pretty pill.
Poison in a pretty pill.
Poison in a pretty pill, etc...


4. WHAT THE FUCK

What now? Now you would destroy the earth,
Dry the river beds.
What now? Now in your control, birth and death,
Dry the bodies, incadescent in the heat.

Your fire is melting both soil and soul,
In plan maybe, is that not enough?
Your war and raving of it is so total,
You're consumed by it as you'd consumed us.
Would you see the fire from your sanctuary of death?
What terrible pain you need to hide,
In your hatred you'd seek to destroy the earth,
What is it that you have been denied?
Your mind and its rantings are so barren,
What the fuck are you thinking? What the fuck?
Your eyes and their vision, empty, staring,
What the fuck are you seeing? What the fuck?

What now? Now you would destroy the earth,
Dry the river beds.
What now? Now in your control, birth and death,
Dry the bodies, incadescent in the heat.

So singular your motives, yet impossible to define,
How finely lined my destiny in the cobwebs of your crime.
So insular your future, so alien your plan,
Take all of this if you will and I'll take what I can.

A town that is no more,
"My god", you say, "what have I done?"
But you won't heed what's gone before,
"What pity?", you say, "There is none."
And so you drive the world to war,
But this war will not be lost or won,
The desolation that you've seen but never saw
Is the lesson that you teach, but never learn.
But would you see the fire in the world where you exist?
Will your hard eyes register the pain?
Are you so cold that there is no distress?
Where there's death would you give death again?
No flowers in your landscape, some withered rose
Kicked amongst the corpses where they lay,
Halted where all hope died, froze,
By the horror of your acts compelled to stay.

What now? Now you would destroy the earth,
Dry the river beds.
What now? Now in your control, birth and death,
Dry the bodies, incadescent in the heat.

Unnoticed all this in your lusting after death,
How determined that your darkness should be shared.
Unnoticed in your blindness this miracle of breath,
What element of beauty attracts your cruel desire?
Would you see the burning? Is that your delight?
Would you have me see it in your stead?
Would you feel my yearning? Peace, life light,
Body, breath. Would you take all this?

What now? Now you would destroy the earth,
Dry the river beds.
What now? Now in your control, birth and death,
Dry the bodies, incadescent in the heat.

What is it that you're seeking, so cold & so deprived?
What is it that you dream of in your empty eyeless head?
Why must I share your lust of death? Can you not die alone?
Why must I share your fear of breath, light, life, PEACE?


5. WHERE NEXT COLUMBUS

Anothers hope, anothers game,
Anothers loss, anothers gain,
Anothers lies, anothers truth,
Anothers doubt, anothers proof.
Anothers left, anothers right,
Anothers peace, anothers fight,
Anothers name, anothers aim,
Anothers fall, anothers fame.
Anothers pride, anothers shame,
Anothers love, anothers pain,
Anothers hope, anothers game,
Anothers loss, anothers gain.
Anothers lies, anothers truth,
Anothers doubt, anothers proof.
Anothers left, anothers right,
Anothers peace, anothers fight.

Marx had an idea from the confusion of his head,
Then there were a thousand more waiting to be led.
The books are sold, the quotes are bought,
You learn them well and then you're caught.
Anothers left, anothers right,
Anothers peace, anothers fight.

Mussolini had an idea from the confusion of his heart,
Then there were a thousand more waiting to play their part.
The stage was set, the costumes worn
And anothers empire of destruction born.
Anothers name, anothers aim,
Anothers fall, anothers fame.

Jung had an idea from the confusion of his dream,
Then there were a thousand more waiting to be seen.
You're not yourself the theory says,
But I can help, your complex pays.
Anothers hope, anothers game,
Anothers loss, anothers gain.

Sartre had an idea from the confusion of his brain,
Then there were a thousand more indulging in his pain,
Revelling in isolation and existential choice;
Can you trully be alone when you use anothers voice?
Anothers lies, anothers truth,
Anothers doubt, anothers proof.

The idea born in someones mind
Is nurtured by a thousand blind
Anonymous beings, vacuous souls,
Do you fear the confusion, your lack of control?
You lift your arm to write a name,
So caught up in the identity game.
Who do you see? Who do you watch?
Who's your leader? Which is your flock?
Who do you watch? Who do you watch?
Who do you watch? Who do you watch?
Who do you watch? Who do you watch?
Who do you watch? Who do you watch?
Who's your leader? Which is your flock?
Who's your leader? Which is your flock?
Who's your leader? Which is your flock?
Who's your leader? Which is your flock?

Einsten had an idea from the confusion of his knowledge,
Then there were a thousand more turning to advantage.
They realised that their god was dead,
So they reclaimed power through the bomb instead.
Anothers code, anothers brain,
They'll shower us all in deadly rain,

Jesus had an idea from the confusion of his soul,
Then there were a thousand more waiting to take control.
The guilt is sold, forgiveness bought,
The cross is there as your reward.
Anothers love, anothers pain,
Anothers pride, anothers shame.

Do you watch at a distance from the side you have chosen?
Whose answers serve you best? Who'll save you from confusion?
Who will leave you an exit and a comfortable cover?
Who will take you so near their edge, but never drop you over?
Who do you watch? Who do you watch?
Who do you watch? Who do you watch?
Who do you watch? Who do you watch?
Who do you watch? Who do you watch?
Who do you watch? Who do you watch?
Who do you watch? Who do you watch?
Who do you watch? Who do you watch?
Who do you watch? Who do you watch?


6. BERKERTEX BRIBE

Berkertex bribe. Oh! Berkertex bribe.
Berkertex bribe. Oh! Berkertex bribe.
Berkertex bribe. Oh! Berkertex bribe.
Berkertex bribe. Oh! Berkertex bribe.

The object unsoiled is packed ready and waiting,
For the moment of truth in this spiritual mating.
The object unsoiled is packed ready and waiting,
To be owned, to be cherished, to be fucked for the naming.
The public are shocked by the state of society,
But as for you, you're a breath of purity.
Well don't give me your morals, they're filth in my eyes,
You can pack them away with the rest of your lies.
Your painted mask of ugly perfection,
The ring on your finger, the sign of protection,
Is the rape on page 3, it the soldiers obsession,
How well you've been caught to support your oppression.
One god. One church. One husband. One wife.

Sordid sequences in brilliant life,
Supports and props and punctuation
To our flowing realities and realisations.
We're talking with words that have been used before
To describe us as goddesses, mother and whores,
To describe us as women, describe us as men,
To set out the rules of this ludicrous game,
And it's played very carefully, a delicate balance,
A masculine/feminine perfect alliance.
Does the winner take all? What love in your grasping?
What vision is left and is anyone asking?
What vision is left and is anyone asking?

She's a Berkertex bribe... Bribe. Bribe...


7. SMOTHER LOVE

The true romance is the ideal repression, that you seek,
That you dream of, that you look for in the streets,
That you find in the magazines, the cinema, the glossy shops,
And the music spins you round and round looking for the props.
The silken robe, the perfect little ring,
Will gives you the illusion when it doesn't mean a thing,
Step outside into the street and staring from the wall
Is perfection of the happiness that makes you feel so small.
Romance, can you dance? D'you fit the right description?
Do you love me? Do you love me? Do you want me for your own?
Do you love me? Say you need me, say you know that I'm the one,
Tell me I'm your everything, let us build a home.
We can build a house for us, with little ones fellow,
The proof of our normality that justifies tomorrow.
Romance, romance. Do you love me? Say you do,
We can leave the world behind and make it just for two.

Love don't make the world go round, it holds it right in place,
Keeps us thinking love's too pure to see another face.
Love's another skin-trap, another social weapon,
Another way to make men slaves and women at their beckon.
Love's another sterile gift, another shit condition,
That keeps us seeing just the one and others not existing.
Woman is a holy myth, a gift of mans expression,
She's sweet, defenceless, golden-eyed, a gift of gods repression.
If we didn't have these codes for love, of tokens and positions,
We'd find ourselves as lovers still, not tokens of possessions.
It's a natural, it's a romance, without the power and greed,
We can fight to lift the cover if you want to sow and seed.
Do you love me? Do you? Do you? Don't you see they aim to smother
The actual possibilities of seeing all the others?
Do you love me? Do you? Do you? Don't you see they aim to smother
The actual possibilities of seeing all the others?


8. HEALTH SURFACE

Places of sickness nurse me cold,
Attendant whiteness glare in dark,
Straighten out the winding sheet
Twisted round in poorest dreams.
Shattered proofing of the lost,
Splinter shackled, little wounds
Of cruelty and truth, they tie
The one way sickness up inside.
Regressive smile, a baby's laugh,
A learnt contortion of the mouth,
Places of laughter leave me cool,
Hot fire dying down to ash.
Beauty breezes through so swift,
Endless roundabout of grief.
Not much to ask, a rightful place
Where nothing matters, but can't touch
Without a sinking heart, this sigh
Could be the wind among the leaves.
This pain does not belong to me,
They've taken everything away
To nurse the sicknesses of loss,
Instilled with fear and bleachy guilt
Impatient winds up in her cloth.
The tired shoes are splitting up
With weighty promises of love,
Waiting for the last to fall away
Buckle noose around the strap
All that separates the flesh
From green grass or sinking mud.
Stagnating, knowing the delusion,
Clean sheets waiting for a body,
Slapped into life and slowly gutted.
A place of sickness is to die in
Tired of the cruelty and lying,
Drip-fed tears of the forsaken.
They say, "Well soon have you up and walking".
Took the prison for a stronghold.
Took the lies for a love-song.
Paid for life on a shoestring.

Waiting for the last to fall away
Buckle noose around the strap
All that separates the flesh
From green grass or sinking mud.


9. DRY WEATHER

Is there anyone prepared to tell me why?
Tell me why I'm being suck dry?
Oh yes, that is yours and this is mine,
As long as the balance is out, that's fine.
I don't define the terms of the oppression,
Do you awake to that dull and grey depression?

You ride on me,
Suck my energy.

You take what you want when you want it,
You reject any change that I make.
You ask me for more when I've spent it,
When I've given it all, you still take.

Is there anyone prepared to tell me why?
Tell me why I'm being suck dry?
Oh yes! I know the lines you draw are for protection,
The number given for a name is simply for detection,
I know I'm only paper in a file,
But couldn't you treat me as a human for a while?

You ride on me,
Suck my energy.

You take what you want when you want it,
You reject any change that I make.
You ask me for more when I've spent it,
When I've given it all, you still take.

Is there anyone prepared to tell me why?
Tell me why I'm being suck dry?
You offer your protection, but insist when I decline,
You offer independence, but demand I tow the line.
You say you give me freedom, but you hang on to the key,
Well don't you think, perhaps, the decision's up to me?

You ride on me,
Suck my energy.

You take what you want when you want it,
You reject any change that I make.
You ask me for more when I've spent it,
When I've given it all, you still take.

Is there anyone prepared to tell me why?
Tell me why I'm being suck dry?
So tell me I'm dreaming if I want to live
And I'll tell you you're just scheming to make me give,
More than I want to, more than I can,
You don't want person, you just want a woman.
You hide behind logic, secure with your facts,
You've a history of time to back up your claims,
Protecting the future by filling up the cracks
That might expose the real nature of your games.
You want woman cos she's children for your system,
Well people wither in that living death.
You hide behind your prejudice, afraid of my wisdom,
Afraid I might question your unquestioned worth.

You ride on me,
Suck my energy.

You take what you want when you want it,
You reject any change that I make.
You ask me for more when I've spent it,
When I've given it all, you still take.

Is there anyone prepared to tell me why?
Tell me why I'm being suck dry?
Used as a tool? Treated like a fool?
Spat on? Shat on?
Totally confused?
Fucked up? Mucked up?
Totally abused?
Pulled about? Fooled about?
Treated like a toy?
Joked about? Poked about?
Something to destroy?
Tricked? Kicked?
I don't want these games.