Red Guitars. Our second single, Fact. Visuals – rare live footage from Sheffield Leadmill on our UK tour in January 1984.
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Superb!!
Fact
lyrics by Jeremy Kidd, music by Hal Lewis
For those of us with dented pride,
Who never reached the top.
I never lost my fear of flying,
Or witnessed thousands fall away and drop.
Cradled like a peak too far,
You’ve got to toe the line.
A miser with a silver spoon,
Take the profit out of doom.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
Pull the curtain wide,
Dispel the gloom,
Chase the blues away.
Facts are facts and railway tracks,
Run parallel to the sky.
Overcome gravity like
we overcome grafitti with grafitti of our own.
A miser in a lead-lined room,
Take the profit out of doom.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
A cold wind blows and commerce flows,
On lines of clear confusion.
Ground-to-air and dust to dust,
The sirens croon collusion,
A whispered word a bitter cry,
The dividend is due.
Dismiss the light the time is right,
For nuclear transfussion.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
Reblogged this on Opher's World and commented:
This is Superb!!
Fact
lyrics by Jeremy Kidd, music by Hal Lewis
For those of us with dented pride,
Who never reached the top.
I never lost my fear of flying,
Or witnessed thousands fall away and drop.
Cradled like a peak too far,
You’ve got to toe the line.
A miser with a silver spoon,
Take the profit out of doom.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
Pull the curtain wide,
Dispel the gloom,
Chase the blues away.
Facts are facts and railway tracks,
Run parallel to the sky.
Overcome gravity like
we overcome grafitti with grafitti of our own.
A miser in a lead-lined room,
Take the profit out of doom.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
A cold wind blows and commerce flows,
On lines of clear confusion.
Ground-to-air and dust to dust,
The sirens croon collusion,
A whispered word a bitter cry,
The dividend is due.
Dismiss the light the time is right,
For nuclear transfussion.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.
Take the profit out of war,
We don’t need it anymore.