Luyện nghe bài hát Nineteen Eighty Bore

Who lobotomy when we've got the ITV
Who ECT when there's 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
got your fucking soul, now they'll fuse your brains away
Mindless fucking sit before the set
fed the mindless rubbish they deserve to get
Can't switch off big brother, they've lost all to act
Lost in confusion, was it fiction, was it fact?
plastic bullet stuns another Irish child
But no-one's really bothered, no, the telly keeps them
They've lost all of feeling to the every hungry glow
Drained of any by the vicious telly blow
No longer know what's real or ain't, slowly blind
stare into the goggle box while the world goes by, behind
The Angels are on T.V. tonight, grey puke fucking
They occupy Ireland, but the boot will never fit
Was it Coronation Or was it Londonderry?
Oh it fucking matter, Paul Daniels'll keep us merry
Yes, I've heard of Bobby Sands, wasn't it Farm?
Yes, right, he was kicked by a cow
I it didn't do him no harm
And the Holocaust 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, upon layer
Illusion, confusion, is anyone left who can care?
Yes, the National cares for you
Nat West, and
Well brings out the bren-guns
spice it up some more
The Sweeney are Brixton, created another Belfast
And J.R.'s advising on lighting, make up and cast
A thousand lenses point at the people's pain
As millions of morons watch the action replay again
Action again
Softly, softly, into life, you're held in it's brilliant glow
Softly, softly, feeding on the you you'll never know
You're life's reduced to nothing, but an empty media
Big Brother ain't watching you mate, you're fucking him