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Seems like every talking head, spinning clever, sing aloud
Every claims to speak, tongue in cheek for the ‘silent crowd’
Every point explored, cue applause and minds and hearts
Everything is black and white, twitter into bite-sized parts
Everything's urgent, talk it up or talk it down
Everything matters, despite the fact that facts are known
Everything’s balance, depends in fact on who decides
Compassionate gaslight, say it’s nothing smile wide
See informed mouthpiece, filled your ears up with their junk
Every trusted mug, comforts drug, your brains drunk
Every reused excuse, adds authority, gospel proof
Fuckwit behaviour, be subjective with the truth
Every expert here, with loud idea’s got it wrongEvery wise refrain on display and now it’s gone
Every balanced point, mr smartarse hit’s the mark
Every shred of ‘good advice’, there to prop the oligarch.
It’s that thing your breath does when it's cold.
Born from your inner warmth, when the Mercury’s low.
Coming from your mouth, honest without sound
Here’s something I can trust, your tiny rising cloud.
You’ve got a lot to say
For someone with not a lot to say
But never let the facts
Get in the way.
You say that you know
We doubt what’s below
You’ve got a lot to say
For someone with not a lot to say
But never let the facts
Get in the way.You say that you know
We doubt what’s below
Your hollow show
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Three years since the last break, not a single day off since
Paradise is busy by the bay
In orbit of the corner store, seven days a week
Seven through to seven every day
Upper flat, Inner city, such a long long way from home
Double cleaners wage pay the rent
In a tiny condensed world, make do in single room
Quiet touch only, beside the daughters bed
Living third world in a first world city
Employer brands the loyalty, keep the manners nice
The old bloke at the front desk, bites down the bitterness
Stress value first impression, try smile with missing teeth
Fight for slight promotion and pass the urine test
Living third world in a first world city
A state house by the motorway, three families in one space
How many can camp down, into a single double bed
Fever likes the company, attract by rheumatic heart
Win the prize of penicillin, or a surgeon on your chest
Loud hear them
Lucky them
Who were there
And who got out
Don’t hear them
Other them
Who are there
Who can’t get out
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