Lyrics for the album "The Final Cut" by Pink Floyd

the Post War Dream
Your Possible Pasts
One Of The Few
The Hero's Return
The Gunners Dream
Paranoid Eyes
Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Desert
The Fletcher Memorial Home
Southampton Dock
The Final Cut
Not Now John
Two Suns In The Sunset

the Post War Dream

tell me true tell me why was jesus crucified
is it for this that daddy died?
was it for you?  was it me?
did I watch too much t.v.?
is that a hint of accusation in your eyes?
if it wasn't for the nips
being so good at building ships
the yards would still be open on the clyde
and it can't be much fun for them
beneath the rising sun
with all their kids committing suicide
what have we done maggie what have we done
what have we done   to england
should we shout should we scream
"what happened to the post war dream?"
oh maggie   maggie what have we done?

Your Possible Pasts

they flutter behind you your possible pasts
some brighteyed and crazy some frightened and lost
a warning to anyone still in command
of their possible future to take care
in derilict sidings the poppies entwine
with cattle trucks lying in wait for the next time

do you remember me?  how we used to be?
do you thing we should be closer?

she stood in the doorway the ghost of a smile
haunting her face like a cheap hotel sign
her cold eyes imploring the men in their macs
for the gold in their bags or the knives in their backs
stepping up boldly one put out his hand
he said, "i was just a child then now I'm only a man"

do you remember me?  how we used to be?
do you thing we should be closer?

by the cold and religious we were taken in hand
shown how to feel good and told to feel bad
tongue tied and terrified we learned how to pray
now our feelings run deep and cold as the clay
and strung out behind us the banners and flags
of our possible pasts lie in tatters and rags

do you remember me?  how we used to be?
do you thing we should be closer?

One Of The Few

when you're one of the few to land on your feet
what do you do to make ends meet?
make them mad, make them sad, make them add two and two
make them me, make them you, make them do what you want them to
make them laugh, make them cry, make them lie down and die

The Hero's Return

jesus jesus what's it all about
trying to clout these little ingrates into shape
when I was their age all the lights went out
there was no time to whine and mope about

and even now part of me flies over
dresden at angels one five
though they'll never fathom it behind my
sarcasm desperate memories lie

sweetheart sweetheart are you fast asleep, good
'cos that's the only time that I can really talk to you
and there is something that I've locked away
a memory that is too painful
to withstand the light of day

when we came back from the war the banners and
flags hung on everyones door
we danced and we sang in the street and

the church bells rang
but burning in my heart
my memory smoulders on
of the gunners dying words on the intercom

The Gunners Dream

floating down through the clouds
memories come rushing up to meet me now
in the space between the heavens
and in the corner of some foreign field
I had a dream
I had a dream
goodbye max
goodbye ma
after the service when you're walking slowly to the car
and the silver in her hair shines in the cold november air
you hear the tolling bell
and touch the silk in your lapel
and as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band
you take her frail hand
and hold on to the dream

a place to stay
enough to eat
somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
where you can speak out loud
about your doubts and fears
and what's more no-one ever disappears
you never hear their standard issue kicking in your door
you can relax on both sides of the tracks
and maniacs don't blow holes in bandsmen by remote control
and everyone has recourse to the law
and no-one kills the children anymore
and no-one kills the children anymore

night after night
going round and round my brain
his dream is driving me insane
in the corner of some foreign field
the gunner sleeps tonight
what's done is done
we cannot just write off his final scene
take heed of the dream
take heed

Paranoid Eyes

button your lip don't let the shield slip
take a fresh grip on your bullet proof mask
and if they try to break down your disguise with their questions
you can hide hide hide
behind paranoid eyes

you put on your brave face and slip over the road for a jar
fixing your grin as you casually lean on the bar
laughing too loud at the rest of the world
with the boys in the crowd
you hide hide hide
behind petrified eyes

you believed in their stories of fame fortune and glory
now you're lost in a haze of alchohol soft middle age
the pie in the sky turned out to be miles too high
and you hide hide hide
behind brown and mild eyes

Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Desert

brezhnev took afghanistan
begin took beirut
galtieri took the union jack
and maggie over lunch one day
took a cruiser with all hands
apparently to make him give it back

The Fletcher Memorial Home

take all your overgrown infants away somewhere

and build them a home a little place of their own
the fletcher memorial
home for incurable tyrants and kings

and they can appear to themselves every day
on closed circuit t.v.
to make sure they're still real
it's the only connection they feel
"ladies and gentlemen, please welcome reagan and haig
mr. begin and friend mrs. thatcher and paisley
mr. brezhnev and party
the ghost of mccarthy
the memories of nixon
and now adding colour a group of anonymous latin
american meat packing glitterati"

did they expect us to treat them with any respect

they can polish their medals and sharpen their
smiles, and amuse themselves playing games for a while
boom boom, bang bang, lie down you're dead

safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye
with their favourite toys
they'll be good girls and boys
in the fletcher memorial home for colonial
wasters of life and limb

is everyone in?
are you having a nice time?
now the final solution can be applied

Southampton Dock

They disembarked in forty-five
And no one spoke and no one smiled
There were too many spaces in the line

They gathered at the cenotaph
All agreed with hand on heart
To sheath the sacrificial knifes

But now

She stands upon Southampton Dock
With her handkerchief
And her summer frock
Clings to her wet body in the rain
In quiet desperation
Knuckles white upon the slippery reins
She bravely waves the boys goodbye again

And still the dark stain spreads between their shoulder blades
A mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves
And when the fight was over
We spent what they had made
In the bottom of our hearts
We felt the final cut

The Final Cut

Through the fish-eyed lens of tear-stained eyes
I can barely define the shape of this moment in time
And far from flying high in clear blue skies
I'm spiralling down to the hole in the ground where I hide

If you negotiate the minefield in the drive
And beat the dogs and cheat the cold electronic eyes
And if you make it past the shotguns in the hall
Dial the combination
Open the priesthole
And if I'm in I'll tell you what's behind the wall

There's a kid who had a big hallucination
Making love to girls in magazines
He wonders if you're sleeping with your new found faith
Could anybody love him
Or is it just a crazy dream

And if I show you my dark side
Will you still hold me tonight?
And if I open my heart to you
And show you my weak side
What would you do?

Would you sell your story to Rolling Stone?
Would you take the children away
And leave me alone?
And smile in reassurance
As you whisper down the phone?
Would you send me packing
. . . or would you take me home?

Thought I oughta bare my naked feelings
Thought I oughta tear the curtain down
I've held the blade in trembling hands
Prepared to make it but

Just then the phone rang
I never had the nerve to make the final cut

Not Now John

Fuck all that, we've got to get on with these
(Fuck all that)
(Fuck all that)
Got to compete with the wily Japanese
There's too many home fires burning and not enough trees
(Fuck all that)
So fuck all that, we've got to get on with these
(Got to get on with these)

can't stop      lose job   mind gone   silicon
what bomb       get away   pay day     make hay
break down      need fix   big six
clickity click  hold on    oh no       brrrrrrrrrring bingo!

Make 'em laugh, make 'em cry, make 'em dance in the aisles
Make 'em pay, make 'em stay, make 'em feel okay

Not now John, we've got to get on with the film show
(Got to get on, got to get on)
Hollywood waits at the end of the rainbow
(Rainbow, the rainbow)
Who cares what it's all about as long as the kids go
(As long as the kids go)
So not now John, we've got to get on with the show
(Got to get on, got to get on)

Hang on John, I've got to get on with this
(Got to get on, got to get on)
Don't know what it is, but it fits on here like this
Come at the end of the shift, we'll go and get pissed
But not now John, I've got to get on with this
(Got to get on with this)
(Got to get on)

Hold on John, I think there's something good on
I used to read books but
It could be the news or some other amusement
It could be reusable shows

Fuck all that, we've got to get on with these
Got to compete with the wily Japanese
(Got to get on, got to get on)
No need to worry about the Vietnamese
Got to bring the Russian bear to his knees
(Got to get on)
Well, maybe not the Russian bear, maybe the Swedes
We showed Argentina, now let's go and show these
(Got to get on, got to get on)
Make us feel tough and wouldn't Maggie be pleased
nah nah nah nah nah nah!

One two three four
S'cusi dove il bar?                  [Italian]
Se parakalo, pou einai to bar?       [Greek]
S'il vous plait ou est le bar?       [French]
Oi!  Where's the fucking bar, John?
(Got to get on)
(Not now John, we've got to get on)

Two Suns In The Sunset

in my rear view mirror the sun is going down
sinking behind bridges in the road
and I think of all the good things
that we have left undone
and I suffer premonitions

confirm suspicions
of the holocaust to come

the wire that holds the cork
that keeps the anger in
gives way
and suddenly it's day again
the sun is in the east
even though the day is done
two suns in the sunset
could be the human race is run

like the moment when your brakes lock
and you slide toward the big truck
and stretch the frozen moments with your fear
and you'll never hear their voices
and you'll never see their faces
you have no recourse to the law anymore

and as the windshield melts
my tears evaporate
leaving only charcoal to defend
finally I understand
the feelings of the few
ashes and diamonds
foe and friend
we were all equal in the end