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ciaran murphy – what’s the story? كلمات اغاني

there’s ceasefires, saltires and stately disguise
dangerous rumours and government lies
and there’s media spin on the public and spies
i’m sick of the whole f_ckin’ story
still, it’s hard to resist with a gun at your head
oh, it’s hard to make friends when you’re better off dead
but i’d rather be dead than easily lead
and to fall for the state_sanctioned story

what’s the story?
conor o’brien and harris and ruth
they came up to belfast to look for the truth
they were full of suspicion and jealous of youth
when they came to the righteous conclusion
that the only thing wrong in this country today
is there’s too many people with something to say
and the bl__dy republicans won’t go away
with their unhelpful talk of collusion
causin’ confusion

[chorus]
oh and what sort of man takes the word
of a journalist who’s never heard
that injustice could come from the state?
he wants no debate
just versions of truth to dictate
well you might as well make yourself blind
if you’ve already made up your blind
that the truth could be found on a sheet
and to tidy in neat
by a liar with deadlines to meet

and there’s gutter press tabloids who make matters worse
when they print a man’s name, it’s like printin’ a curse
they celebrate k!llin’, cause it’s good for their purse
it’s a murderous cash combination
they’ve got leagues of subversers just spendin’ their time
eatin’ your babies and livin’ off crime
who worship the devil and wait for a sign
to unleash the next operation
to wipe out the nation
[chorus]
oh and what sort of man takes his lead
from a journalist whose only creed
is provide for some idiot’s need
for scandal and dirt
ignorin’ the pain and the hurt
do you want to learn more about life?
or find out who’s sh_ggin’ whose wife?
’cause if scandal’s the best you can do
it says more about you
than your readers who don’t have a clue

jim’s up at the bar, he’s gettin’ into the groove
and he’s pickin’ up stories he won’t need to prove
’cause dead men don’t sue, so he won’t need to move
and his wallet’s as big as his waistline
all the dealers and the gangsters, he predicts their demise
i’ve no love for them, but him i despise
when he hears of their k!llin’, it lights up his eyes
’cause he’s already thought of a headline
now, what time’s the deadline?

[chorus]
oh and what sort of man takes his lead
from a journalist whose only creed
is provide for some idiot’s need
for scandal and dirt
ignorin’ the pain and the hurt
well the editor gleefully said
“some lad’s been shot in the dead”
now you’ve got lap dance and p_rno and drugs
get it out to the mugs
who believe everything that they read

- ciaran murphy

كلمات أغنية عشوائية

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