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OK, this one's called "Whitewash" |
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When was the very first time you saw |
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Chumbawamba? |
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In my dreams! |
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Ha! Working in a forge, black lungs, burnt skin |
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Callouses, arched back, hammering, hammering |
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Stalin watching over us pigeon shit head |
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We'd spit on the floor at this red bastard god |
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That's how grateful we are [Repeat] |
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Bronze statue, pink marble, built to last |
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We brought him to his knees in a single night |
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And the boots that remained |
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I attacked, |
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I attacked |
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Hammering, hammering, the past is past |
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That's how grateful we are [Repeat] |
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Scrub away, scrub away |
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And the noise rang out, metal on metal |
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Pigeons flit, dust settled |
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Out from the shadows we took to the streets |
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David chopping at the giant's feet |
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That's how grateful we are [Repeat] |
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OK, we're gonna take it right, right, right, right down, way down |
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What we need is a break from the old routine [Repeat] |
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Can I kick it? |
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Yes you can! [Repeat] |
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There ain't no justice, just us [Repeat] |
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OK, we've been doing this one quite a few nights running, but |
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I'd like to take that one. |
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Is that a yes? |
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Which one, then? |
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Goodbye girl, goodbye girl... |
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Martin McLaren, |
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Archer, Anais |
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Nin... Well, basically, |
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Chumbawamba are the sort of metals of the pop world |
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The old groups, they're not concerned with what there is to be learned |
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They sell 501s and they think it's funny, turning rebellion into money |
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Can I kick it? |
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This songs become a bit irrelevant now, innit, we may as well just go off now. |
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Couple of yous could just get up and we'll just fuck off. |
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I'm into that man, you know, 'cause |
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I've got a hot chocolate waiting for me back there. |
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There's, uh, quite a bit of anti- |
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Criminal Justice |
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Bill sentiment down in front here. |
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Excellent! |
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What we need is a break from the old routine [Repeat] |
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You still want to come? |
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Too late, too late |
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We're cut and we're fallen like harvested wheat |
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But we lived on our feet, at least, at last |
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And we will live on our feet, at least, at last |
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That's how grateful we are [Repeat] |
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You still want to come? |
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Too late, too late |
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We're cut and we're fallen like harvested wheat |
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But we lived on our feet, at least, at last |
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We will live on our feet, at least, at last |
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That's how grateful we are |
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That's how grateful |
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Ta |
