words by Paul Spencer, 2003
traditional Irish tune The Disused Railway

Bm - - /Bm - A /G - - /Bm F#m Bm /
Bm - - /Bm - A /G - - /Bm F#m Bm /

D - - /D - A /D - - /Bm - - /
D - - /A - - /G - - /Bm F#m Bm /

Watching telly hypnotically,
Spending money neurotically,
Making choices robotically,
Turning into a slave.
School to make me employable,
Work to make me reliable,
Just when life gets enjoyable,
Lay me into my grave.

Come the global calamity,
Markets crashing dramatically,
Final show of insanity,
Time to start anew,
People starving to death,
Even over here in the West,
And you won't have time for a breath,
But we'll all have something to do.
Life is easy on benefit,
Drinking beer for the fun of it,
Smoking weed for the Zen of it,
Nearly dying on smack.
Try to stand on my feet,
But I find there's nothing to eat,
And it's cold out here on the street,
So I soon come grovelling back.

Spend the day on the phone,
Like a dull mechanical drone,
And I might as well be alone,
Coz I've got no time for a chat.
Work til six and then leave,
With a lousy wage for the week,
And I don't know what I've achieved,
But it nearly pays for my flat.