It's the lower-middle classes that keep the Good Shippe Pop afloat, you know - socially vulnerable enough to be hungry, educated enough to articulate their anxieties, acutely aware of their 'nonentity' status in the higher echelons of culture, influence, power...
None of them can afford to live in London any more, however, which is why every decent band in the country comes from somewhere else.
lyrics
Words:
All the midwives squinted down at what they were paid
Most skipped town for Glasgow or Adelaide
The teachers went to Swansea and the bus drivers too
And the youth workers trailed them with the ambulance crews
But all the damaged people love the bright, bright lights
And the ravaged people love the bright, bright lights
All the savage people love the bright, bright lights
Do you, do you, do you, do you, cos…
London has nothing to say
(Nobody’s listening anyway…)
London has nothing to say
London has nothing to say
(Nobody’s listening anyway…)
London has nothing to say
Do you..?
Do you..?
All the burnt-out nurses packed their bags and went home
To Inverness, Wallasey or Rotherham
The lollipop ladies and the riot police
Put their names down for allotments in the Vale of Neath
But all ambitious people love the bright, bright lights
All delicious people love the bright, bright lights
All the vicious people love the bright, bright lights
Do you, do you, do you, do you, cos…
London has nothing to say
(Nobody’s listening anyway…)
London has nothing to say
London has nothing to say
(Nobody’s listening anyway…)
London has nothing to say
Do you..?
Do you..?
The health care workers caught a train up to Hull
Where owning your own drum is not impossible
The social workers quit en masse and left for the coast
And the Chelsea postal workers all gave up their post
But all the needy people love the bright, bright lights
All the greedy people love the bright, bright lights
All the seedy people love the bright, bright lights
Do you, do you, do you, do you, cos…
London has nothing to say
(Nobody’s listening anyway…)
London has nothing to say
London has nothing to say
(Nobody’s listening anyway…)
London has nothing to say
Do you..?
Do you..?
And the rubbish piles up in the streets of Chelsea
And the buses don’t run in the streets of Chelsea
And the kids can’t play out in the streets of Chelsea
And your money’s no good in the streets of Chelsea
Let me take you the throat and lead you through
The streets of London
credits
from Bitter Lemon,
released October 2, 2020
Written by Huw Darling.
'Riot' has OFFICIALLY left the building. Thanks, Darrin.
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