Amused to Death
Album - 1 settembre 1992 - Debaser id 16268

tv channels changing
Two things that have haunted me most are the days when I had to
collect the paybooks; and when I left Bill Hubbard in no-man's-land.
I was picked up and taken into their trench. And I'd no sooner taken
two or three steps down the trench when I heard a call, 'Hello Razz,
I'm glad to see you. This is my second night here,' and he said 'I'm
feeling bad,' and it was Bill Hubbard, one of the men we'd trained
in England, one of the original battalion. I had a look at his wound,
rolled him over; I could see it was probably a fatal wound.
You could imagine what pain he was in, he was dripping with sweat; and after
I'd gone about three shellholes, traversed that, had it been...had
there been a path or a road I could have done better. He pummeled
me, 'Put me down, put me down, I'd rather die, I'd rather die, put me
down.'
I was hoping he would faint. He said 'I can't go any further, let me die.' I said 'If I leave you here Bill you won't be found, let's
have another go.' He said 'All right then.' And the same thing
happened; he couldn't stand it any more, and I had to leave him
there, in no-man's-land."

You have a natural tendency
To squeeze off a shot
You're good fun at parties
You wear the right masks
You're old but you still
Like a laugh in the locker room
You can't abide change
You're at home on the range
You opened your suitcase
Behind the old workings
To show off the magnum
You deafened the canyon
A comfort a friend
Only upstaged in the end
By the Uzi machine gun
Does the recoil remind you
Remind you of sex
Old man what the hell you gonna kill next
Old timer who you gonna kill next
I looked over Jordan and what did I see
Saw a U.S. Marine in a pile of debris
I swam in your pools
And lay under your palm trees
I looked in the eyes of the Indian
Who lay on the Federal Building steps
And through the range finder over the hill
I saw the frontline boys popping their pills
Sick of the mess they find
On their desert stage
And the bravery of being out of range
Yeah the question is vexed
Old man what the hell you gonna kill next
Old timer who you gonna kill next
Hey bartender over here
Two more shots
And two more beers
Sir turn up the TV sound
The war has started on the ground
Just love those laser guided bombs
They're really great
For righting wrongs
You hit the target
And win the game
From bars 3,000 miles away
3,000 miles away
We play the game
With the bravery of being out of range
We zap and maim
With the bravery of being out of range
We strafe the train
With the bravery of being out of range
We gained terrain
With the bravery of being out of range
With the bravery of being out of range
We play the game
With the bravery of being out of range

When the sleigh is heavy
And the timber wolves are getting bold
You look at your companions
And test the water of their friendship
With you toe
They significantly edge
Closer to the gold
Each man has his price Bob
And yours was pretty low
History is short the sun just a minor star
The poor man sells his kidneys
In some colonial bazaar
Que sera sera
Is that your new Ferrari car
Nice but I'll think I'll wait for the F50
You don't have to be a Jew
To disapprove of murder
Tears burn my eyes
Moslem or Christians Mullah or Pope
Preacher or poet who was it wrote
Give any one species too much rope
And they'll fuck it up
And last night on TV
A Vietnam vet
Takes his beard and his pain
And his alienation twenty years
Back to Asia again
Sees the monsters they made
In formaldehyde floating 'round
Meets a gook on a bike
A good little tyke
A nice enough guy
With the same soldier's eyes
Tears burn my eyes
What does it mean
This tearjerking scene
Beamed into my home
That it moves me so much
Why all the fuss
It's only two humans being
It's only two humans being
Tears burn my eyes
What does it means
This tender TV
This tearjerking scene
Beamed into my home
You don't have to be a Jew
To disapprove my murder
Tears burn my eyes
Moslem or Christian Mullah or Pope
Preachers or poet who was it wrote
Give any one species too much rope
And they'll fuck it up

Doctor, Doctor, what is wrong with me
This supermarket life is getting long
what is the heart life of a color tv
what is the shelf life of a teenage queen

Ooooh western woman, Ooooh western girl

News hound sniffs the air, when Jessica Hahn goes down
He latches on to that symbol of detatchment
Attracted by the peeling away of feeling
The celebrity of the abused shell, the belle

Ooooh western woman, Oooooh western girl
Ooooh western woman, Oooooh western girl

And the children of Melrose strut their stuff
is absolute zero cold enough
and out in the valley, warm and clean
the little ones sit by their tv screen
no thoughts to think, no tears to cry
all sucked dry, down to the very last breathe
bartender what is wrong with me,
why am i so out of breathe
the captain said excuse me ma'am
the species has amused itself to death

amused itself to death
it has amused itself to death
amused itself to death

we watched a tragedy unfold
we did as we were told
we bought and sold
it was the greatest show on earth
but then it was over
we ohhed and awed
we drove our racing cars
we ate our last few jars of caviar
and somewhere out there in the stars
a keen eyed look out
spied a flickering light
our last hurrah
our last hurrah
and when they found our shadows
grouped round the tv sets
they ran down every lead
they repeated every test
they checked out all the data on their list
and then the alien anthropologist
admitted they were still perplexed
but on eliminating every other reason
for our sad demise
they logged the only explanation left
this species has amused itself to death

no tears to cry, no feelings left
the species has amused itself to death
amused itself to death