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Read (Discography): Pink Flag


Our own correspondent is sorry to tell
Of an uneasy time that all is not well

On the borders there's movement
In the hills there is trouble
Food is short, crime is double

Prices have risen since the government fell
Casualties increase as the enemy shell
The climate's unhealthy, flies and rats thrive
And sooner or later the end will arrive

This is your correspondent, running out of tape
Gunfire's increasing, looting, burning, rape

Field Day For The Sundays

I wanna be a field day for the Sundays so they can f——k up my life
Embarrass my wife, and leave a bad taste
That striped toothpaste can't remove on Monday mornings

I wanna be a target for the dailies so they can show
Pictures of me with a nude on page three, so lacking in taste
Touched up near the waist, looking as limp as Monday morning

Three Girl Rhumba

Think of a number, divide it by two,
something is nothing, nothing is nothing.
Open a box, tear off the lid,
then think of a number, don't think of an answer.
Open your eyes, think of a number,
don't get swept under, a number's a number

A chance encounter you want to avoid, the inevitable,
so you do, oh yes you do the impossible

Now you ain't got a number, you just want to rhumba,
and there ain't no way you're gonna go under

Go under

Ex-Lion Tamer

There's great danger
For the loneliest ranger of all
No silver bullets
Tonto's split the scene

Next week will solve your problems
But now, fish fingers all in a line
The milk bottles stand empty
Stay glued to your TV set

There's great danger
At hand most caped crusader of all
No cloak of justice
Robin's flown the nest


The time is too short but never too long
to reach ahead, to project the image,
which will in time become a concrete dream.

Another cigarette, another day,
from A to B, again avoiding C, D, and E,
'cos E is where you play the blues.
Avoiding a death is to win the game,
to avoid relegation, the big E.

Drowning in the big swim, rising to the surface

The smell of you
That's the lowdown

Start To Move

Start to move, time at hand, bird in hand

No bush but trees thicken, which now, rooster or chicken

Leave the past, feel the wrench, smell the stench

Was good, but flesh soon rots, emotions, we all got spots

Please believe me, I still do care, please believe me, I'm just not there


It's true darling, I'll walk you home, I'll be your date forever
I love you girl, I love you, until they split the atom

So many times there's nothing left, there's nothing left at all
I know I'm right, 'cause when you're gone, there's nothing left at all

Left, right, salute

It's So Obvious

It's so obvious, it's here, it's there
It's not just the colour, it must be more
At least 17+3 score
This is '77, nearly heaven
It's black, white, and pink, just think
There's more to come
Hum hum hum hum
It's so obvious

Well it's all right, just listen, can't wait for '78
God those RPM, can't wait for them, don't just watch
Hours happen, get in there kid and snap them

Surgeon's Girl

Sitting in a surgeon's world, as surgeons will, a surgeon's girl with me
Standing on a river bed, where weeds can be, I'm on my knee to you

I've seen you in glossy mags, I've seen you and you see me

Said you weren't a tuna fish, put in a tin, they're very big, ha ha

Pink Flag

I was sold up the river to the red slave trade
The stores were gathered, the plans were laid
Synchronised watches at 18:05
How many dead or alive in 1955?

The pink flag was screaming, bugle boys sucked and blew
No time for confessions, orders given
Books were cooked on the 4th of the 3rd
How many seen or heard on the 12th of the 3rd?

How many dead or alive?

The Commercial


Straight Line

My mind is unwilling and your flesh is so weak
Do my movements betray the secrets I think?
I always stand by walls and try to humour fools

Am I moving in a straight line?

Oh, it's unlust and the one-dimensional boy

106 Beats That

If he had a room, he'd paint it white,
survives the day, prefers the night,
build slight

Got a head for figures
No time for bicker(er)s
(Or so he says)
Prefers the company of a woman

Finds it more physical (that's an important word),
always seen first then heard,
such a rare bird

With praise he glows, with change he grows, finds that important, hates waiting, it's not stimulating, likes celebrating, I can't understand why that is so funny, that is sex

Mr Suit

I'm tired of being told what to think
I'm tired of being told what to do
I'm tired of f——ing phonies
That's right, I'm tired of you

No, no, no, no, no, no, Mr Suit

You can take your f——ing money and shove it up your arse
'Cause you think you understand, well it's a f——ing farce
I'm tired of f——ing phonies
That's right, I'm tired of you

And if you turn and walk out that door
And take your f——ing money, let me tell you what it's for
I'm tired of f——ing phonies
That's right, I'm tired of you


There's something strange going on tonight
Something going on that's not quite right
Joey's nervous and the lights are bright
There's something going on that's not quite right

There's something going down that wasn't here before
Keep your eyes glued to the floor
No one's gonna save your life
Something strange is going on tonight


Tears fall in slivers, you broke my shades
The light's too bright, let me bury my heart

Filter emotions of green, cowardice gives blue
A restricted view, let me open my heart

I have a fleeting love, scorching when it lands
Needing precious hands

You eat my energy, give me more rope
Nail in the wall, let me hang my heart


You're a waste of space
No natural grace
You're so bloody thin
You don't even begin

To interest me, not even curiosity
It's not animosity, it's just you don't interest me

You're an energy void
A black hole to avoid
No style no heart
You don't even start

Different To Me

Well I wonder what's going on, same old stuff suppose
Not quite right that the stuff's the same but it seems different to me
Seems like the cancer in this city has got to be terminal
I haven't got it, though; incidentally, where are you?
Thought you lived here, the bright lights have got you
I'd rather be a sprat than a mackerel, you can slip through the net
It's set, it also takes one to catch one


The race of champions, the pace the pace
The speed the need, the need to seed
The chance to die

Another dead don't cry, another dead don't cry
You've still got speed, you'll maybe bleed
But that's next time

Less time than before, more speed than before
You're rich not poor, what are you doing it for?
Want more, want more

Another dead don't cry, another dead don't cry
Indeed it's speed, to feed from speed

Doing it all the time

Feeling Called Love

What is this feeling called love?
What is this crazy thing I can't explain anyhow?
What is this feeling called love?
What is this crazy scene I can't work out anyhow?

Maybe I should try it now
Or maybe I should be shy of it now
COs there's nothing you know that can explain it
And there's nothing you know that's worth the pain of it

What is this feeling called love?
What is this thing I can't work out no how?
What is this feeling called love?
What is this thing I don't understand no how?

Gimme love


Saw you in a mag (smoking a fag), kissing a man

I got you in a corner (cottage), got you in a corner