Pink Floyd
«Lyrics»

And I didn't care for you,

We would zig zag our way through the boredom and pain,

Occasionally glancing 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 meat

with your eyes closed.

And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight

You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking.

And after a while, you can work on points for style

Like the club tie, and the firm handshake,

A certain look in the eye and an easy smile.

You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to,

So that when they turn their backs on you

You'll get the chance to put the knife in.

You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder.

You know it's going to get harder, and harder and harder

as you get older.

And in the end you'll pack up and fly down south,

Hide your head in the sand,

Just another sad old man,

All alone 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 turns to stone.

And it's too late to loose the weight you used

to need to throw around.

So have a good drown, as you go down, alone,

Dragged down by the Stone.

I gotta admit that I'm a little bit confused.

Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm just being used.

Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise.

If I don't stand my own ground,

how can I find my own way out of this maze?

Deaf, dumb and blind, you just keep on pretending

That everyone's expendable and no one has