Luyện nghe bài hát Nineteen Eighty Bore

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