Mock Orange This Nation
This Nation has no imagination even though it's the
second half of the word.
You tell me what you see and I'll tell you it's wrong.
I've told you all along that I'm trying to sing it in
this song.
All you have to do is close your eyes and thing about
something you like (god...)
But you can't. Get on your motorbike.
Maybe you spend a thousand a night but who gives a shit.
Not I. I don't care.
Get on a plastic trike. Maybe you'll sit and try it all
night.
At least you'll put up a fight. And you will...
Waiting for the man stacked with a secret plan.
Give it all away. See who's getting paid.
A wage for my feet always a aching's not the way it's got
to be but that's the way it is for me.
Get outside at night. Get all excited put up a fight.
Kick down a motorbike. You'll be alright.
Get out into the sand. Fall on your face. Smoke up a
trance.
Put on your plastic dance. Everybody's got it on.
Lose the cannon.
Everybody's got to have *macho*(?) rock and roll.
Who's calling out the songs you smash your face to.
We don't need them anymore.
