Luyện nghe bài hát Nineteen Eighty Bore

Who needs lobotomy we've got the ITV
Who needs ECT there's good old BBC?
Switch on the set, up the screen
Fantasise and dream about you might have been
Who needs when they've got the cathode ray
They've got your fucking soul, now they'll fuse your away
Mindless fucking morons sit the set
Being fed the rubbish they deserve to get
Can't switch off big brother, they've all will to act
Lost in drab confusion, was it fiction, was it
Another bullet stuns another Irish child
But no-one's really bothered, no, the telly them mild
lost all sense of feeling to the every hungry glow
Drained of any by the vicious telly blow
No know what's real or ain't, slowly going blind
They stare into the box while the world goes by, behind
The are on T.V. tonight, grey puke fucking shit
They army occupy Ireland, but the boot never fit
Was it Coronation Street? Or was it
Oh it doesn't fucking matter, Paul Daniels'll keep us
Yes, I've heard of Sands, wasn't it Emmerdale Farm?
Yes, right, he was kicked by a cow
I hope it do him no harm
And wasn't the terrible, good thing it wasn't for real
Of course I've heard of H-Block, it's the baccy with man
Deeper and deeper and deeper, layer layer
Illusion, confusion, is there left who can care?
Yes, the National cares for you
Nat West, and
brings out the Branston bren-guns
Let's it up some more
The are cruising Brixton, created another Belfast
And J.R.'s Thatcher on lighting, make up and cast
A camera lenses point at the people's pain
As millions of morons watch the action replay again
replay again
Softly, softly, into your life, you're held in brilliant glow
Softly, softly, feeding itself on the you you'll never
You're life's reduced to nothing, but an empty game
Big Brother ain't watching you mate, fucking watching him