When it was Christmas, I always got guns,
We watched all the war films, where we always won,
Schools all had uniforms, and rules you obeyed,
Thou shalt not fight, but to kill for your country's okay,
Cos you've got a name, rank and number..
And I grew up on Engerland, and how we won the war,
Three nil, 66, Winston Churchill, Geoff Hurst, Bobby Moore,
You get out of school and you go down the pub and the dole
And there's too many Saturdays and not enough goals
So I got my name, rank and number.
And they train you do what you're told and they teach you the skills
How to keep your head down and mouth shut, and the best ways to kill,
And you think won't the girls be impressed as you swagger by
And the punks that they're with, they're all careful they don't catch your eye
And when we sailed for the south Atlantic, how we cheered for Maggie
And when that ship full of conscripts went down how we cheered for Maggie
And on the cliffs at Goose Green we made our prisoners
Fight for their lives
Like goldfish in tanks of piranhas
Making bets on how long they'd survive
And we were your heroes..
And when you come out, with those pains in your head,
The jobs are all crap, and some days you don't get out of bed,
Then this bloke in this pub, you think that he's looking at you,
And when the cops come for you, you know what to do,
You give them your name rank and number.
And when you get out, with bad dreams in your head,
They give you some pills, but most days you can't get out of bed,
Two hundred and fifty five killed in that nice little war,
You reach for the bottle of pills and you make it one more
Name rank and number
As the son that you never knew you had ships out for Iraq
You swallow the last of your pills, and you stare at the dark
With your name, rank & number..
We watched all the war films, where we always won,
Schools all had uniforms, and rules you obeyed,
Thou shalt not fight, but to kill for your country's okay,
Cos you've got a name, rank and number..
And I grew up on Engerland, and how we won the war,
Three nil, 66, Winston Churchill, Geoff Hurst, Bobby Moore,
You get out of school and you go down the pub and the dole
And there's too many Saturdays and not enough goals
So I got my name, rank and number.
And they train you do what you're told and they teach you the skills
How to keep your head down and mouth shut, and the best ways to kill,
And you think won't the girls be impressed as you swagger by
And the punks that they're with, they're all careful they don't catch your eye
And when we sailed for the south Atlantic, how we cheered for Maggie
And when that ship full of conscripts went down how we cheered for Maggie
And on the cliffs at Goose Green we made our prisoners
Fight for their lives
Like goldfish in tanks of piranhas
Making bets on how long they'd survive
And we were your heroes..
And when you come out, with those pains in your head,
The jobs are all crap, and some days you don't get out of bed,
Then this bloke in this pub, you think that he's looking at you,
And when the cops come for you, you know what to do,
You give them your name rank and number.
And when you get out, with bad dreams in your head,
They give you some pills, but most days you can't get out of bed,
Two hundred and fifty five killed in that nice little war,
You reach for the bottle of pills and you make it one more
Name rank and number
As the son that you never knew you had ships out for Iraq
You swallow the last of your pills, and you stare at the dark
With your name, rank & number..
envoyé par giorgio - 25/1/2011 - 08:07
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Lyrics & Music by Robb Johnson
Album: Metro