Future Of The Left - Singing Of The Bonesaws lyrics

The music industry is lying to you It is telling you that you are excited And you are excited And you are excited Or rather you have confused excitement with the fear of missing out Which is understandable as these two feeling are very closely related Focusing as they do, on the heart and the groin and ending in a bloody mess, pregnancy tests and too little sleep Our survey says that shouting inanities in a regional accent is valuable to culture Look at Eastenders, Soccer AM or the Queen's speech A survey says pedafiles run the BBC but look at the alternatives Drowning men clutching at straws through their bell-end helmets, sad women dreaming of being owned by them, their children eventual despoilers of the high-streets clad head to toe in menstrual blood. Screaming s**ual insults into bedroom mirrors with the sad belief it will empower them And it will empower them And it will empower them At least that's what it says on my cereal packet That's what it says on my receipt from the apple store Good lord I cannot identify the bloodied bodies of my loved ones They were k**ed whilst watching a new television show on the MTV network One were Kim Kardashian is chased through woodland by a giant bear wearing a mask which carries the visage of recently deceased film director Michal Winner The bear has apparently not qualified for a workplace pension and is angry with Daniel Day Lewis for what he perceives as the relative lack of action in their will be blood Which he otherwise enjoyed but found a little precious for its tastes Anyway after twenty minutes of panicked running around intercut with interviews with friends and other celebrities, the production team behind the show all simultaneously come to the same horrifying conclusion They've wasted the precious gift of life which has been given to them by science. They start attacking themselves with the nearest available objects, braking off camera tripods to ram them bloodily into each other's eyes Climbing up the highest branches of trees to fall face down on to the pulsing earth, the whole time shrieking and screaming with the sudden primal vigour of lost souls who have forgotten language and seem intent on shouting their black hearts from their grey, semi erect chests Quite They face, the pigs They face the pigs they were They face, the pigs They face the pigs they were Anyway, my family members otherwise enjoying a restful Sunday afternoon spent basking in the Christian lie of a benevolent and loving God, witness this horror through the prism of their television set, concentrating hard on the psychic bloodied anguish which has utterly enveloped the unlikely wooden scene, is transmitted directly into the heart of our living room And they burst from the screen and into their eyes and their hearts and their minds and their tits and their bits And they burst from the screen and into their eyes and their hearts and their minds and their tits and their bits And they burst from the screen and into their eyes and their hearts and their minds and their tits and their bits And they burst from the screen and into their eyes and their hearts and their minds and their tits and their bits And they burst from the screen and into their eyes and their hearts and their minds and their tits and their bits And they burst from the screen and into their eyes and their hearts and their minds and their tits and their bits Thoughts echo, from off foreheads