I) Te Dium
In upstairs rooms
The meals are eaten
The cars in the garage ready to go-go
Disco baby shed no tear
Hot light overhead
Shaking meat meet
Ho ho weekend, ha ha party
Moo moo sacred cow
The White House some days
On the lawn
Well kept pedigree
Snap over bones
Surplus requirements
Appetite angel going down

II) We Are Sane
Meanwhile below reports flop into the in-trays
In-trays
Meanwhile below reports flop into the in-trays

she stares out of her window
Her will is still in bed
She has no memory of herself
For care has drained her head
The poster on the billboard
Says she should paint her lips
Like the smiles on the tv people

File number one
"If the thought processes of an individual can be permanently limited
To the point of strict conformity to an outside source of thought,
The said individual need no longer be considered as such.
The enforcement of order becomes possible for anybody with enough power
To control what is projected."

"See?"

"It's all quite simple..."

"Mary!"

this woman's place is in a home
Society has judged
She does not fit official standards
And they cannot be budged
There's something in her eyes that says
The struggle's gone too deep
And there's no comfort in the thought of
Watching acolytes of doubt
Try hard to fight their problems out
Excess profit has the clout
To spread the message

we are sane!
Not insane!

she reads about a will to power
In papers full of lies
She hears that every time she breathes
Some foreign kiddy dies
She's convinved it's her fault
She's tortured by the strain
As words of judgement pour out of the
Mouths of those who make their mark
By keeping people in the dark
Those who bite worse than they bark
Are loudly shouting

we are sane!
Not insane!

and the chorus says
"it's all quite normal... la-la-la"
And the chorus says
"it's all quite normal... la-la-la"
The choruses...
Are happy as they know no different way
Except what they've been told today
("left! right! left! right!")
Accepting their limited 'truth' and blankly humming

we are sane!

III) Dictator's Excuse Me
And we are not to blame
We must protect the claim

praise those who hold power
They shall save the last hour
Using sacred science
They can stamp out defiance
Wheee...!

File number two
"Technician, we want you to build a component
For each of our workers, to be with them always,
At all time watch closely, so we can keep track of
Their actions, their interests, their morals, their time out.
Some musak to maim them, some fear to contain them.
Policy will judge, them brute forces degrade them.
Practical behaviour, the cleanser, the saviour.
A private vocation has no sense of nation.

The maintenance of power can be so fulfilling,
Just as long as all the slaves are willing.

So this is an order:
We must curb thought disorder.
With a miniature transmitter
We can pavlov the litter
And train it to do as we tell it,
State surgeon, the seed plant
Thought soon get a new slant.
So tiny a dogma idea turn to quagmire,
Thrum-humming transistor a brain wave insistor,
Closed circuit hypnosis an inbuilt psychosis,
Not one self expression deliberate supression.
A cycle to squeeze out anyone who we doubt
Will must be pliable to be reliable."

tuned into the media system
Picture getting hard to see
How did you end up as a prisoner
When you were supposed to be free?

oh, wouldn't you like to know?

lebensraum for megalomania
Endless song with one refrain
All eyes fixed upon the conductor
Baton taps inside the brain...

Writer : REVELL, ANDREW/DEVOIL, BRIAN/MITTEN, CLIVE/MANN, GEOFF
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing