Better PIGS than SHEEP

Pigs (Three Different Ones) (Pink Floyd, Animals, 1977)

Big man, pig man, ha ha charade you are. You well heeled big wheel, ha ha charade you are. And when your hand is on your heart, You're nearly a good laugh, Almost a joker, With your head down in the pig bin, Saying "Keep on digging." Pig stain on your fat chin. What do you hope to find. When you're down in the pig mine. You're nearly a laugh, You're nearly a laugh But you're really a cry. Bus stop rat bag, ha ha charade you are. You fucked up old hag, ha ha charade you are. You radiate cold shafts of broken glass. You're nearly a good laugh, Almost worth a quick grin. You like the feel of steel, You're hot stuff with a hatpin, And good fun with a hand gun. You're nearly a laugh, You're nearly a laugh But you're really a cry. Hey you, Whitehouse, Ha ha charade you are. You house proud town mouse, Ha ha charade you are You're trying to keep our feelings off the street. You're nearly a real treat, All tight lips and cold feet And do you feel abused? .....! .....! .....! .....! You gotta stem the evil tide, And keep it all on the inside. Mary you're nearly a treat, Mary you're nearly a treat But you're really a cry.

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Sheep (Pink Floyd, Animals, 1977)

 Harmlessly passing your time in the grassland away; Only dimly aware of a certain unease in the air. You'd better watch out! There may be dogs about I looked over Jordan, and I've seen Things are not what they seem. That's what you get for pretending the danger's not real. Meek and obedient you follow the leader Down well trodden corridors into the valley of steel. What a surprise! A look of terminal shock in your eyes. Now things are really what they seem. No, this is not a bad dream. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want He makes me down to lie Through pastures green He leadeth me the silent waters by. With bright knives He releaseth my soul. He maketh me to hang on hooks in high places. He converteth me to lamb cutlets, For lo, He hath great power, and great hunger. When cometh the day we lowly ones, Through quiet reflection, and great dedication Master the art of Judo, Lo, we shall rise up, And then we'll make the bugger's eyes water. Bleating and babbling we fell on his neck with a scream. Wave upon wave of demented avengers March cheerfully out of obscurity into the dream. Have you heard the news? The dogs are dead! You better stay home And do as you're told. Get out of the road if you want to grow old.

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