Manic Street Preachers

In 1985, I placed a bet and lied,
losing all that I had,
at least with all my heart intact.

In 1985, Orwell was proved right,
Torville and Dean's bolero,
redundant as a sad welsh chapel.
In 1985, in 1985.

So God is dead, like Nietzsche said,
superstition is all we have left.
Circle the wagons, we're under attack,
we've realised there's no going back,
we've realised there's no going back.

In 1985, the Civil War failed why?,
kept hidden like scars of birth,
nature unable to soften the words.

In 1985, my words they came alive,
friends were made for life,
Morrissey and Marr gave me choice.
In 1985, in 1985.

So God is dead, like Nietzsche said,
only 16 years of age, he said.
See all the tears, for the walking dead,
we've realised there's no going back,
we've realised there's no going back.

In 1985, I placed a bet and lied,
losing all that I had.

Days since I last pissed
cheeks sunken and despaired
so gorgeous sunk to six stone
lose my only remaining home
see my third rib appear
a week later all my flesh disappear
stretching taut, cling-film on bone
I'm getting better
Karen says I've reached my target weight
Kate and Emma and Kristin know it's fake
problem is diet's not a big enough word
I wanna be so skinny that I rot from view
I want to walk in the snow
and not leave a footprint
I want to walk in the snow
and not soil its purity
stomach collapsed at five
lift up my skirt my sex is gone
naked and lovely and 5st. 2
may I bud and never flower
my vision's getting blurred
but I can see my ribs and I feel fine
my hands are trembling stalks
and I can feel my breasts are sinking
mother trys to choke me with roast beef
and sits savouring her sole ryvitta
that's the way you're built my father said
but I can change, my cocoon shedding
I want to walk in the snow
and not leave a footprint
I want to walk in the snow
and not soil its purity
Kate and Kristin and Kit Kat
all things I like looking at
too weak to fuss, too weak to die
choice is skeletal in everybody's life
I choose, my choice, I starve to frenzy
hunger soon passes and sickness soon tires
legs bend, stockinged I am Twiggy
and I don't mind the horror that surrounds me
self-worth scatters, self-esteem's a bore
I long since moved to a higher plateau
this discipline's so rare so please applaud
just look at the fat scum who pamper me so
yeh 4st. 7, an epilogue of youth
such beautiful dignity in self-abuse
I've finally come to understand life
through staring blankly at my navel.

Libraries gave us power
Then work came and made us free
But what price now for a shallow piece of dignity

I wish I had a bottle
Right here in my dirty face to wear the scars
To show from where I came

We don’t talk about love we only want to get drunk
And we are not allowed to spend
As we are told that this is the end

A design for life x4

I wish I had a bottle
Right here in my pretty face to wear the scars
To show from where I came

We don’t talk about love we only want to get drunk
And we are not allowed to spend
As we are told that this is the end

A design for life x4

We don’t talk about love we only want to get drunk
And we are not allowed to spend
As we are told that this is the end

A design for life x4

And all the masks I carry on my face
For you, for another
Some calm and then some grace
But once within a long and broken night
A face like mine, bereft of dreams and white

This is a song, this is a song
a song for a departure
This is a song
This is a song, this is a song
a song to take you homewards
This is a song

Maybe this strangeness only ever was
To hide ourselves from some kind of happiness
But always the moment it just seems to stay
Tearing it off like so many calendar days

This is a song, this is a song
a song for a departure
This is a song
This is a song, this is a song
a song to break your heart to
This is a song

This is a song, this is a song
a song for broken lovers
This is a song
This is a song, this is a song
a song to take you homewards
This is a song
This is a song, this is a song
a song to break your heart to
This is a song

Primary prole MP judge general policeman
Figureheads sucked in as just another token
To sell your culture and tolerate another
Annihilation in the pursuit of self-love corruption

Vision of dead desire - tune in reception control
Vision of dead desire - underclass coma zone

Don't pacify your life to suit dead law convention
White trash held up as just more gold chain icons
State fed lies charm empty eyes
Happy thoughts a unity death smile of acceptance

Vision of dead desire - mainline on a death fix
Vision of dead desire - bleed the thought of throwing bricks

Europe land, realise your thoughts
Kill all ruling class laws