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      3_1. Pigs on the Wing 1
      3_2. Dogs
      3_3. Pigs (Three Different Ones)
      3_4. Sheep
      3_5. Pigs on the Wing 2




If you didn't care for me and I didn't care for you
We would zig zag our way through the boresome and pain
Occasionally glaming up through the rain
Wondering which of the buggers to blame
And watching for pigs on the wing




You gotta be crazy you gotta have a real need
You gotta sleep on your toes and when you're on the street
You gotta be able to pick out the easy meet
With your eyes down
And then moving in silently down
Wind and out of sight
You gotta s.... When the moment is right
Without thinking
And after a while you can work on pourt for style
Like the club tie and the firm handshake
A ^ertain look in the eye and an easy smile
You have to be trusted by the people than you lie to
So that when they him their backson you
You'll get the chance to put the knife in
You gotta keep one eye looking over your showlder
You know it's goin to get harder and harder
                                    as you get away
And in the end  you'll pack up and fly down south
Hide your head in the sand just another sad old man
All along and dying of cancer
And when you loose control you'll reap
                        the harvest you have sown
And as the fear grows the bad blood slows
                               and tunes to stone
So have a good drown as you go down alone
Dragged down by the storm
I gotta armit that I'm a little bit confused
Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm  just been used
Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake
                                of this creeping malaise
If I don't stard my own ground how can I find my own way
                                out of this maze?
Deal dumb and blind you just keep on pretending
That everyone's expendable and no one has a real friend
Ind it seems to you the thing to do would be to is late
                                the winner
And everything's done
Under the sun
And you believe at heart everyone's a killer
Who was born in a house full of pain
Who was trained not to spit in the fan
Who was told that to do by the man
Who was broken by trained personnel
Who was bitted with colour and chain
Who was given a seat in the stand
Who was breaking away from the pack
Who was only a tranger at home
Who was ground down in the end
Who was found dead on the phone
Who was dragged down by the storm




Big man pig man ha ha sharade you are
You well heeled big wheel ha ha sharade you are
And when your hand is on your heart
You're nearly a good laugh, almost a joker
With your head down in the pig bin
Saying "Keep on diggin"
Pig staing on your fat chin
What do you hope to find?
When you're down in the pig mine
You're nearly a laugh
But you're really cry

Bus stop rat bag ha ha sharade you are
You facked up old hag ha ha sharade you are
You radiate cold shafts of broken glass
You're nearly a good laugh
Almost worth a guick grin
You like the feel of steel
You're hot stuff with a hat pin
And good fan with a hand gun
You're nearly a laugh
But you're really cry

Hey, you, whitehouse ha ha sharade you are
You house proud town mouse ha ha sharade you are
You trying to keep our feelings off the street
You're nearly a real treat
All tight lips and cold feet
And do you feel a bused  ..! ..! ..! ..!
You gotta slem the evil tide
And keep it all on the inside
Mary you're nearly a treat
But you're really a cry




Harmlessly passing you time in the grassland away
Only dimly aware of a certain uneasy in the air
You better watch out
There may be dogs about
I've looked over Jordan and I have seen
Things are not what they seem

What do you get for pretending the dangers not real
Meek and obidient you follow the leader
      down well trodden coiridors into the walley of steel
What a surprise!
A look af terminal shock in your eyes
Now things are really what they seem
No this is no bad dream

The lord is my shepherd I'll not want he maketh
        me down to lie
Through pashires green he leadeth me the silent waters by
With bright knives he releaseth my soul
He maketh me to hand on hooks in high places
He converteth me to lamb cutlets
For low he has great power and great hunger
When cmeth the day we lowly ones
Through quiet reflection and great dedication
Master the art of karate
So we shall rise up
And then we'll make the buggers eyes water

Breating and bubbling I feel on his neck with a stream
Wave upon wave of demented avengers
        march cheerfully out of obscurity into the dream
Have you heard a news? The dogs are dead!
You better stay home and do as you're told
Get out of the road if you want to grow old




You know that I care what happens to you
And I know that you care for me
So I don't feel alone or the weight of the stone
Now that I found somewhere safe to bury my bone
And any fool knows a dog needs a home
A shelter from pigs on the wing



Last-modified: Tue, 01 Jul 1997 05:19:19 GMT

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