Live at the Witch Trials
Album - 16 marzo 1979 - Debaser id 45001

Someone's always on my tracks
In a dark room you see more than you think
I'm out of my place, got to get back
I sweated a lot, you could feel the violence



I've got shears pointed straight at my chest
And time moves slow when you count it
I'm better than them, and I think I'm the best
But I'll appear at midnight when the films close



Cause I'm in a trance
and I sweat
I don't want to dance
I want to go home.



I couldn't live in those peephole places
They might get to know my actions
I'd run away from toilets and faeces
I'd run away to a non-date on the street



Cause I'm in a trance
and I sweat
I don't want to dance
I want to go home.



I feel trapped by mutual affection
And I don't know how to use freedom
I spend hours looking sideways
to the time when I was sixteen



Cause I'm in a trance.



I'm frightened.
Amphetamine frightened



I go to the top of the street
I go to the bottom of the street
I look to the sky, my lips are dry....

I'm searching for the now
I'm looking for the real thing, yeah



Head through a blue haze
Waiting for the musical craze
We gotta taxi for Mr. Nelson
Taxi for Mr. Nelson



Rebellious Jukebox yeah
Rebellious Jukebox, oh



No sounds at first came out
This machine had dropped out
But it made music to itself
Made music for itself



Rebellious Jukebox yeah
Rebellious Jukebox now



I'm looking for the home of the real
I want a happy time now


Drinkers from the slaughterhouse
Weren't happy and went out
Noise resounds aloud
Noise resounds the lounge



Rebellious Jukebox yeah
Rebellious Jukebox oh



I sidled up to a fruit machine
This I was imagining:
Some drinkers dancing at the bar
Drinkers dancing for the bar



Rebellious Jukebox yeah
Rebellious Jukebox now



I'm searching for the now
I'm looking for the real thing yeah

No Christmas for John Quays
Come on get a bit of fucking guts into it
What what

Well the powders reach you
And the powders teach you
But when you find they can't reach you
There is no Christmas for junky

He thinks he is
More interesting
Than the world

Ah but buying fags
Puts him in a whirl

I'll have a packet of three-five fives
Will you fucking put the monitors on for Christ's sake?
I'll have a packet of three-five fives
I'll have 20 of those over there
I'll have 20 No.6 for a headache
And I've had enough right there, stop

(Why is this)
Ah Ah Ah Ah Ah

He spits in the sky
It falls in his eye
And then he gets to sitting
Talking to his kitten
Talking about Frankie Lymon

Tell me why is it so?
Tell me why is it so?

Why did the sky break today?
Why did this happen today?

He goes out of his face with the Idle Race
He goes out of the room with this tune

Although the skins are thin
He knows its up to him
To go out or stay in

I'll stay in
I'll stay in
Have a break

You
Me
X-Mas
X-Mas

Well the powders reach you
And the powders teach you
But when you find they can't reach you
There is no Christmas for junky
There is no girls
There is no curls
Just the traffic passing by
Bye bye bye bye bye bye bye bye

Open the room, there's a cloud of smoke
Will you fucking get it together instead of showing off?

Give me one
Give me B
Give me three
Give me D

No X-mas for John Quays

Er, what's this song about?
Er, nothing.

None
No recipes
It was like a see-saw
No
It was like an up and down
Bye bye
Mother, Sister
Mother, Sister
Why did you put your head in?

Reach or preach
It's all a diminished return
Now
Floorboard
Creaks

Mother, Sister
Mother, Sister
Why did you push your head in?

Astray
Our Friends
And the fathers are underground
Your mouth is sold out

Mother, Sister
Mother, Sister
Why did you put your head in?

The pylon

Get off the Ind. Est.
Get off the Ind. Est.



Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate
Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate
Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate



Well you started here to earn your pay
Clean neck and ears on your first day
Well we tap one another as you walk in the gate
And we'd build a canteen but we haven't got much space



Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate
And the crap in the air will fuck up your face
Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate
Boss can bloody take most of your wage
And if you get a bit of depression
Ask the doctor for some valium



Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate
Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate
Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate

(Your nervous system, your nervous system)
(Underground medicine, underground medicine)



A spark inside
[Traverse up my hide]
And when it clicks
There's no resist



Every time I hear a new baby cry
I thank my spark inside



And you get underground medicine
Underground medicine
I'm but a nervous system
Underground medicine



I found a reason not to die
A reason for the ride
The spark inside
When it hits the mind you get
Underground medicine
Underground medicine
I'm but a nervous system
Underground medicine



I had a psychosomatic voice
And one time it might come back



Underground medicine
Underground medicine
I'm but a nervous system
Underground medicine



On my pants I spilled expectorant
And the colonel shot better with 30 pints
They took his cup away
Take it away, take it away
[Used to 'ground] medicine
[Used to 'ground] medicine
[Used to 'ground] medicine