The Surreal Age Of The Naked Lemon

The Old Grey Wolf Ltd Co

A tribute to Hawkwind

The Surreal Age of the Naked Lemon

Haley’s Comet flies across the English sky and the Saxon king will not survive
It’s a dark dark omen a foreboding warning it’s a dark dark Amen like a beautiful morning
On the day you die, on the day you die, on the day you die

Did you find your name in the Doomsday book, did you even look
Normans conquer and dictate they rule the land by fear and hate
With swords and castles built to last they subdue the peasant class
Until Watt Tyler spoke for us and came to meet a sticky end
The King betrayed and took his life the tyrant will be king
the peasants are revolting, Of coarse they are my King,

Which brings us to the Civil War when Cromwell did our pride restore
Cut off the head of a Catholic King, tell the pope he can kiss my ring
Christmas fell beneath his sword and men did heed the book of words

Kings and Queens did rule the land while parliament made laws
In the name of glory did they send our men to war, to loot and pillage all we could
From each and every land we ever saw,

Lord and Ladies Gentlemen to the manor born, inherit all your titles and your wealth will be assured, we tax the poor and then again we tax them more and more and more and more

We don’t like the Nazi scum we will fight to the day we die
Winston Churchill shake your fist and smoke your big cigar
God save our history, long live the BBC
God save our dying dream of conquest and control the empire crumbles, the empire crumbles

Margeret Thatchers fascist groove privatised the land, made you all financial slaves afraid to raise your hand, leave our National Health alone and pay them nurses well
We believe in democracy the one we never had and never will

Please Sir can we have some more there’s hunger in the streets
Please Sir can we have some more we just can’t make ends meet, they will not meet

And did those feet in ancient times in this green and pleasant land see slums and dirty streets
And was the holy lamb Jehova
Sold on a Saturday night as a doner kebab to a drunken yob who pukes upon the floor

The price of food is going up but interest rates are down
And if you don’t pay your mortgage the bailiffs will be round
Ask a politician go on ask him what he knows, the cost of debt must be paid to keep the status quo
Raise their taxes lower wages make the poor man pay
Bankers and businessmen go on holiday laughing at you, you stupid fool, they make the rules,
They own your lives and they will treat you how they like and if you go on strike
They will call out to the law and then they will beat you down, you know they will, you know they will, protect the rich, oppress the poor, so you want more, we’ll give you more of this

They expect you to do your duty fight their wars for them,
But while you die on the bloodstained fields they are wondering “what shall we spend the profits on, what do we need?”
More champayne and caviar some cocaine and some art yes we need art, let the people starve we must have art

Never in the field of human finance has so much been owed to so many by so few
Be a good worker, pay your taxes, feel grateful that you have a job, it’s all a great machine you see
And you are just a cog a very small one

It’s a capitalistic slave machine that means the rich don’t work

Society the Slave machine that means the rich don’t work
Society the Slave machine that gives you just enough
Society the Slave machine a system based on class
Society the Slave machine that never breaks down never breaks down never breaks down

In the Surreal Age of the Naked Lemon the machine broke and the Earth was without form and void