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SCRAPE AWAY - Paul Weller
Your twisted cynicism - makes me feel sick -
Your open disgust for `idealistic naive`
You`ve given up hope - you`re jaded and ill
The trouble is your thoughts a catching disease.
Oh - you need to get away
Oh - you need a change of pace
Because you`re all dried up and you don`t believe
You reckon I`m dreaming when I say I still feel real,
You say you work for yourself and it`s the only way
But I look at you talking and to me you just scrape away -
What makes once young minds get in this state,
Is it age or just the social climate?
You`re talking like some fucking hardened MP
You`re saying power`s all
And it`s power you NEED!
Oh - you need to get away
Oh - you need a change of pace
Because you`ve given up on hope -
You`re emotionless -
You`ve no need for love it`s just hate, hate, hate.
But I look at you shaking and it is you -
Who is scraping away.
You who is scraping away..
SMITHER-JONES - Bruce Foxton
Here we go again, it`s Monday at last,
He`s heading for the Waterloo line.
To catch the 8am fast, its usually dead on time,
Hope it isn`t late, got to be there by nine.
Pin stripe suit, clean shirt and tie,
Stops off at the corner shop, to buy The Times
`Good Morning Smithers-Jones`
`How`s the wife and home?`
`Did you get the car you`ve been looking for?` (repeat)
Let me get inside, let me take control of you,
We could have some good times,
All this worry will get you down,
I`ll give you a new meaning to life - I don`t think so.
Sitting on the train, you`re nearly there
You`re a part of the production line,
You`re the same as him, you`re like tin-sardines,
Get out of the pack, before they peel you back.
Arrive at the office, spot on time,
The clock on the wall hasn`t yet struck nine.
`Good Morning Smithers-Jones`,
`The boss wants to see you alone`.
`I hope its the promotion you`ve been looking for` (repeat)
`Come in Smithers old boy`
`Take a seat, take the weight off your feet`.
`I`ve some news to tell you`
`There`s no longer a position for you` -
`Sorry Smithers-Jones`.
Put on the kettle to make some tea
It`s all a part of feeling groovy
Put on your slippers turn on the TV
It`s all a part of feeling groovy
It`s time to relax now you`ve worked your arse off
But the only one smilin` is the sun tanned boss
Work and work and work and work til you die
Cause there`s plenty more fish in the sea to fry.
LITTLE BOY SOLDIERS - Paul Weller
Its funny how you never knew what my name was,
Our only contact was a form for the election.
These days I find that you don`t listen,
These days I find that we`re out of touch,
These days I find that I`m too busy,
So why the attention now you want my assistance -
what have you done for me?
You`ve gone and got yourself in trouble,
Now you want me to help you out.
These days I find that I can`t be bothered,
These days I find that its all too much,
To pick up a gun and shoot a stranger,
But I`ve got no choice so here I come - war games.
I`m up on the hills playing little boy soldiers,
Reconnaissance duty up at 5:30.
Shoot shoot shoot and kill the natives,
You`re one of us and we love you for that.
Think of honour, Queen and country.
You`re a blessed son of the British Empire,
God`s on our side and so is Washington.
Come out on the hills with the little boy soldiers.
Come on outside - I`ll sing you a lullabye,
And tell the tale of how goodness prevailed.
We ruled the world - we killed and robbed,
The fucking lot - but we don`t feel bad.
It was done beneathe the flag of democracy,
You`ll believe - and I do, yes I do - yes I do -
Yes I do -
These days I find that I can`t be bothered,
To argue with them - well, what`s the point?
Better to take your shots and drop down dead,
then they send you home in a pine overcoat.
With a letter to your mum
Saying `find enclosed one son, one medal` - and a note to say he won.

SCRAPE AWAY - Paul Weller
Your twisted cynicism - makes me feel sick -
Your open disgust for `idealistic naive`
You`ve given up hope - you`re jaded and ill
The trouble is your thoughts a catching disease.
Oh - you need to get away
Oh - you need a change of pace
Because you`re all dried up and you don`t believe
You reckon I`m dreaming when I say I still feel real,
You say you work for yourself and it`s the only way
But I look at you talking and to me you just scrape away -
What makes once young minds get in this state,
Is it age or just the social climate?
You`re talking like some fucking hardened MP
You`re saying power`s all
And it`s power you NEED!
Oh - you need to get away
Oh - you need a change of pace
Because you`ve given up on hope -
You`re emotionless -
You`ve no need for love it`s just hate, hate, hate.
But I look at you shaking and it is you -
Who is scraping away.
You who is scraping away..
SMITHER-JONES - Bruce Foxton
Here we go again, it`s Monday at last,
He`s heading for the Waterloo line.
To catch the 8am fast, its usually dead on time,
Hope it isn`t late, got to be there by nine.
Pin stripe suit, clean shirt and tie,
Stops off at the corner shop, to buy The Times
`Good Morning Smithers-Jones`
`How`s the wife and home?`
`Did you get the car you`ve been looking for?` (repeat)
Let me get inside, let me take control of you,
We could have some good times,
All this worry will get you down,
I`ll give you a new meaning to life - I don`t think so.
Sitting on the train, you`re nearly there
You`re a part of the production line,
You`re the same as him, you`re like tin-sardines,
Get out of the pack, before they peel you back.
Arrive at the office, spot on time,
The clock on the wall hasn`t yet struck nine.
`Good Morning Smithers-Jones`,
`The boss wants to see you alone`.
`I hope its the promotion you`ve been looking for` (repeat)
`Come in Smithers old boy`
`Take a seat, take the weight off your feet`.
`I`ve some news to tell you`
`There`s no longer a position for you` -
`Sorry Smithers-Jones`.
Put on the kettle to make some tea
It`s all a part of feeling groovy
Put on your slippers turn on the TV
It`s all a part of feeling groovy
It`s time to relax now you`ve worked your arse off
But the only one smilin` is the sun tanned boss
Work and work and work and work til you die
Cause there`s plenty more fish in the sea to fry.
LITTLE BOY SOLDIERS - Paul Weller
Its funny how you never knew what my name was,
Our only contact was a form for the election.
These days I find that you don`t listen,
These days I find that we`re out of touch,
These days I find that I`m too busy,
So why the attention now you want my assistance -
what have you done for me?
You`ve gone and got yourself in trouble,
Now you want me to help you out.
These days I find that I can`t be bothered,
These days I find that its all too much,
To pick up a gun and shoot a stranger,
But I`ve got no choice so here I come - war games.
I`m up on the hills playing little boy soldiers,
Reconnaissance duty up at 5:30.
Shoot shoot shoot and kill the natives,
You`re one of us and we love you for that.
Think of honour, Queen and country.
You`re a blessed son of the British Empire,
God`s on our side and so is Washington.
Come out on the hills with the little boy soldiers.
Come on outside - I`ll sing you a lullabye,
And tell the tale of how goodness prevailed.
We ruled the world - we killed and robbed,
The fucking lot - but we don`t feel bad.
It was done beneathe the flag of democracy,
You`ll believe - and I do, yes I do - yes I do -
Yes I do -
These days I find that I can`t be bothered,
To argue with them - well, what`s the point?
Better to take your shots and drop down dead,
then they send you home in a pine overcoat.
With a letter to your mum
Saying `find enclosed one son, one medal` - and a note to say he won.

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