Wounded World

I'm a puppet, you're a puppet too
Can old punks return and not soil?
A dancing fool, jiggle me at my joints
Sometimes they come back, ears still ringing
Once you were on my side
And, you shake but... aren't they better than before?
But I will make you wish that I had died.
Maybe just a little bit?
I had died.
(I don't think we'll be seeing Minor Threat)

<<<<< Thanks for all of your help and perfection, oh yeah
With choruses that sound like a million happy guys having fun in their Dadhood or benevolent football crowds; meaning it more than anything in the world but still finding it funny
The machines we have built for the end. >>>>>>
Like The Comedian in Watchmen

Another year, another friend or foe
Amost all of this album sounds like the phlegm and hormones have been sucked out
Burn their cities, scorch the earth below
Replaced by a considered rage, an awareness of the inarticulacy of grief.
The times have changed and so too have our needs
The sound of a burning pit condensed into raucous, hysterical Kitty Genovese laughter which seems, more now than ever, the one true story that happy slaps all our faces and which underligns everything we ought to do...

This time it's you on which the fire feeds.
The thick gloop of Calpol added to the mix of Bad News.
Fire feeds.
Here lie The Futureheads.

But maybe also there's a little touch of Dinosaur Jrs about the lyrics,
If you laugh at my jokes you will pay for it, oh yeah
Though Opera sheds words with no comeuppance or bad tidings
When your friends are enemies, you'll be sold....
And the musical schema here is so tight and inopperable it's like it's existed every day for 22 years.

Thanks for all of your help and perfection, oh yeah
(God, maybe even The Lemon Kittens will reform after all, maybe the paint is sufficiently dried... could be they're adjusting the buckles right now and drilling new holes in the straps)
The machines we have built for the end
The Corporation is on TV soon.

Wounded. World. Wounded.

Mission of Burma - Wounded World