The Police Have All The Time In The World

The lap of polluted luxury
In sportswear with memories of the war (god)
They bottle anyone who shares
They haven’t hit the bottom yet
Don’t wait up
Don’t worry

Cause the police have all the time in the world

That naked man
Ruined your life
Come back now and all is forgiven

The sea of penury and disease
Where children fall to bits in the street

An innocent Irish girl
Educated by the nuns
A shithouse
Seduction

The police have all the time in the world

Bloody old sword
Tough broken world
Gaining for a laugh
It’s so sad
Coming to a street near you
WAAAAAAH!

Move with the Scotch, ah!
Yeah!

Crock up your French!
Learn how to swim!

Let this be your axiom, of
Motivational foreign languages!

Oh, crock up your French!
Learn how to swim!

Thanks to Mike for the transcription. Lyrics as of the 4th Feb 1985 version – the lyrics were slightly different in early versions of the song. This was one of the new tracks to be written during 1984, and played fairly frequently between then and early 1985. It was dropped after the song “Past” was written, and it’s believed that “Past” was written around a slowed down version of the rhythm. Cathal had noted trouble with the police during the 80s, and releasing a song with them in its title would probably not have been wise. The song is one of only three Microdisney songs to be performed live but never recorded in studio, the other two being “Ring Around England” and “King Of Free Speech”

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Dig Me Up (Dreaming Drains)

From an unidentified Fanning Session – listen here…

This is the very end of the world
Due to your deep concern with the end
We all had friends that, when drunk, we dug their graves.
Friends always sure to find out
I’m useless
Or hopeless, now dig me up

When all the trouble comes I just sleep
Remind me of a (?) world without end
We all had things to say which we thought we meant
Now anger has no target
Just older, just joking, quick dig me up

I haven’t been listening
To what I’ve been saying
We’re not coming through this
We’re not coming through this

This is a song of love to the world
To all the dying towns in the world
Try to forget that there once was life out here
You’ll soon forget it’s your fault
Your speeches, you’re careless
Go dig me up

I Can’t Say No (Hackney Aid)

 

“This thing working then is it? This thing working? Can you hear this Richard? This thing working is it? Is it Alright? One two – ah, think it’s working alright, alright”

“What we do now then Jim?”
“Well I dunno Jim, dunno”
“Uh Microdisney do a song called “I Can’t Say No” don’t they”
“Yeah Microdisney tho’, you know, they’re shit ain’t they. Shit”

My dear can I sing you a song
A simple lovers tale
So warm and hard and long
And I can’t exist without thirst
They say there’s no romance
But here’s a special broad
I’ve got some ways to keep you warm
While disconnecting your alarm
And when I pull the trigger
You’ll be a public figure
We’ll be so happy on our farm
Alright

I can’t say no
And I think you know
I’m eager but slow
And I can’t say no

I’ll give you all I possess
The children and the press (nice one Jim)
And a seaport jet
A bone in my foot and retire
And set the farm on fire
With you and your spare tyre
We’ll have some valium and glue
And two in continental soups
Don’t look so scared about it
I’ll wrap my mouth around it
Oh, Microdisney, they are shit

I can’t say no
And I think you know
I’m eager but slow
And I can’t say no

We do the middle eight now right
Alright, here we go

Take all my poppers
But don’t take my heart
Don’t take out the dog
Or my train falls apart
Station to Station as David Bowie said
Donkey to banker to doggy to me

I can’t say no
And I think you know
I’m eager but slow
And I can’t say no
And I can’t say no
And I can’t say no
And I can’t say no

Money For The Trams

Young people are stupid
All they want
The only, the only thing they want is
Money for the trams
They will punish those who love them most
And know best what is good for them
And they come running back
When they are beyond salvation
Broken, un-recognisable
Stinking of fear
Stinking
Money for the trams.

What is the motive and meaning
Of a teenage heroin addict
Nothing
But every so often one of them dies
And somebody gets upset
And its father will walk down a rainy street in his cheap flared suit
Polyester flapping in the wind
And he clutches a plastic briefcase full of papers
To prove to the judges that the drug dealers killed his son
Look at him walk – he doesn’t doubt anything

(Through the fog and up the hill
Pass the army barracks
Down again near the American cemetery)

If you want happiness maybe you should have looked in the dustbin
Perhaps somebody’s been there already

Shut up…

Pay your money and take your seat
But the show doesn’t begin – nothing happens
You feel somehow, cheated
So you start to stamp your foot
You start screaming
You start to yodel
You start to say “Take your clothes off
Take your stinking stinking stinking clothes off
Stinking stinking stinking
Stinking stinking stinking
Stinking stinking stinking”

The garden comes with the house
The neighbours in the trailer camp destroyed it
But you still pay for it
But the neighbours are very respectable towards each other
But they have a blind spot
They grew up during the war
When there was fellow feeling between nations
So they are different
So they don’t respond to a call which is
Take your stinking clothes off
Take your stinking clothes off

Come On Over And Cry

 

 

Daddy built this land
Scarred and bruised his hands
People ran to kiss those hands
They knelt everywhere he went
Now he lost us our minds
He gave us our fear

Daddy went away
Still unsatisfied
Mad drunk in his burning house
Begged some boy to break his back
Now shivering slow
He begs in the street

What a smashing crystal night

Same thing underneath this skin
Stale blood, self pity and beer
I’m drawing this line
Come on over and cry

Back To The Old Town

Well he wakes you at seven
And makes sure you’re dressed
And says stoned you’ll up by eight
And he leaves you to wait in some cold vile street
With the other little Princes of Wales.

Go back to the old town
Go back to the old town
You can die if you want to
I wont stop you

Sunday, your business, sniffling in bed
Too sick to remember a word
In a cure of silence much older than gods
The dying boy makes not a sound
He is blue.

Go back to the old town
Go back to the old town
You can die if you want to
I wont stop you

We give the poor disease and drugs
We got mainstream life to keep us smug
Let the blue faced lifeless corpse be heard
Please

After sanity’s ended
And calamity beckons
And humanity’s senile
What are people for?

Go back to the old town
Go back to the old town
You can die if you want to
You can die if you want to

Go back to the old town
Go back to the old town
You can die if you want to
Hell, you can die if you want to
Go back to the old town
Go back to the old town
You can die
You can die
You can die

Wake up

Little boy
Little boy
It’s time to go to Sandhurst

National Anthem

They keep the old man in the bad house because he smells of piss. They let him out to kiss the flag and then he goes and disgraces the family.  Why was I born into a time like this? Poetic licence. Hey now young savages, national anthem time…

God is good, God is bad
Never saw planet earth
Valium or starvation
Continents of starvation

I don’t deserve but I should have had heaven
Should have had heaven, should have had heaven
That’s my anthem
We should have had heaven
Well that’s my anthem
I should have had heaven
Should have heaven

God is good, God is bad
Never saw planet earth
Valium or starvation
Continents of starvation

It’s the national anthem
National anthem

Christians cry
Christians cry for protection
Christians cry for protection
It’s either that or starvation
Give us peace and give us sweetbread
But most of all give us a flag
Hiding together away from the cause
Kissing useless colours
Remember the old man smelt of piss
Not shit
It was piss

National anthem time again
Let’s rock, Come on…

From Kaught At The Kampus