In upstairs rooms

The meals are eaten

The cars in the garage ready to go go

Disco baby shed no tear

Hot light overhead

Shaking meat meet

Ho ho weekend ha ha party

Moo moo sacred cow

The white House somedays

On the lawn

Well kept pedigree

Snap over bones

Surplus requirements

Appetite angel going down



Meanwhile below reports flop into the in-trays in-trays

Meanwhile below reports flop into the in-trays

She stares out of her window

Her Will is still in bed

She has no memory of herself

For care has drained her head

The poster on the billboard

Says she should paint her lips

Like the smiles on the TV people



[FILE 1:]

"If the thought processes of an

individual can be permanently limited to the

point of strict conformity to an outside source

of thought the said individual need no longer

be considered as such. The enforcement of

order becomes possible for anybody with

enough power of control what is projected"

See?

It's all quite simple ...



This woman's place is in a home

Society has judged

She does not fit official standards

And they cannot be budged

There's something on her eyes that says

The struggle's gone too deep

And there's no comfort in the thought of

Watching acolytes of doubt try hard to fight

Their problems out

Excess profit has the clout to spread the message:



"We are sane

Not insane ..."

She reads about a will to power

In papers full of lies

She hears that every time she breathes

Some foreign kiddy dies

She's convinced it's her fault

She's tortured by the strain

As words of judgement pour out of the

Mouths of those who make their mark by keeping

People in the dark

Those who bite worse than they bark

Are loudly shouting



"We are sane

Not insane"

And the chorus says

"It's all quite normal" la-la-la

And the chorus says

"It's all quite normal" la-la-la



The choruses

Are happy as the know no different way except

What they've been told today

Accepting their limited 'truth' and blankly humming

"We are sane

And we are not to blame

We must protect the claim"

Praise those who hold power

They shall save the last hour

Using sacred science

They can stamp out defiance

Wheeeee!



[FILE 2:]

"Technician we want you to build a component

For each of our workers to be with them always

At all time watch closely so we can keep track of

Their actions their interests their morals their time out

Some musak to maim them some fear to contain them

Policy will judge them brute forces degrade them.

Practical behaviour the cleanser the saviour

A private vocation has no sense of nation



The maintenance of power can be fulfilling

Just as long as all the slaves are willing



So this is an order

We must curb thought disorder

With a miniature transmitter

We can pavlov the litter and train it to do as we

Tell it state surgeon the seed plant thought soon get

A new slant so tiny a dogma idea turn to quagmire

Thrum-humming transistor a brain wave insistor

Closed circuit hypnosis an inbuilt psychosis

Not one self expression deliberate surpression

A cycle to squeeze out anyone who we doubt

Will must be pliable to be reliable"



Tuned into the media system

Picture getting hard to see

How did you end up as a prisoner

When you were supposed to be free?

(Oh wouldn't you like to know?)



Lebensraum for megalomania

Endless song with one refrain

All eyes fixed upon the conductor

Baton taps inside the brain ...





BASS AND KEYBOARDS : CLIVE MITTEN

DRUMS AND TYPEWRITER : BRIAN DEVOIL

GUITAR : ANDY REVELL

VOCALS AND TAPE EFFECTS : GEOFF MANN

WRITTEN BY : ANDY, BRIAN, CLIVE AND GEOFF

ORIGINALLY RELEASED ON : 'FACT AND FICTION' TN.006 Dec 1982