Remember that song from 1992 I tried to post the other day? The one where I was trying to find the lyrics? Well, still no real luck, but I did try doing a little transcribing. Yes, much of this song seems to be about Great Britain’s transgressions, but if you look at what he’s saying a bunch of it could directly relate to our current world.

Here’s what I could understand, to the best of my meager abilities. Tell me that a lot of this doesn’t hit home like a sucker punch:

<unk> <unk> of carraige lamps and selected affluence

a voting booth of certainty insures a quiet subservience

Politicians smooth their hair, a x box begins to leak

So be bold and strong and let’s sell Hong Kong, leave behind the lame and the weak

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These islands of divided <unk>, we’ve sailed the world and we robbed it too

<unk> <unk> <unk> <unk> <unk> books and jingoistic ballyhoo

Children of the empire, we’re just putting up shelves

We’re shaking hands with those maniacs, no wonder whales beach themselves


Tear gas ghosts on terraces, the foreign game show parliament

In order to avoid arrest it’s best to be completely bent

Fresh air is for <unk> portfolios, available upon request

The deal was to be healed in the kingdom of the double-breast


Poll tax, blurred facts, good job there was no soul tax

For those who rule are those who could not pay

Empty prayers, loveless stares

We <unk> casualty became the casualties

Of being there...


And ten years on where did they go, what is moved and what was sold

Wisdom’s not prime time enough, so stupid words are aired instead

Ain’t nothing right and no one’s wrong and everyone has their say

The truth is now opinions in multi-colored shades of grey 


We’re reeling whilst kneeling, <unk> prayers of better feeling

We’re trying to walk the soft and wounded way

We need clarity, and charity, amidst the tensions and disparity

Of being there...


We’ve sucked the breast of right to buy the six-pack evening barbecue

Whilst yet another war groans out on CNN news

So sad for them less fortunate, their lives are just crumpled leaves

But we’re in first class, the <unk> baby, ordering aperitifs - what’s yours...


We’re still casualties, we’re casualties 

Of being there...