(Leon Rosselson)
Whoever invented fish fingers ought to be crucified
Skinned, mashed and boxed into uniform blocks
Then covered with breadcrumbs from collar to socks
Then frozen and finally fried
For who would do that to a fish finning its way through the sea
Colours in harmony, perfectly poised, riding his flying trapeze
Progress is all very well
But not when it chops up our dreams
And it's hard to feel at ease in a world
Where nothing is quite what it seems
Whoever invented BILD-Zeitung ought to be cut down to size
Pulped, then reduced to a horrible juice
And flattened and dried until ready for use
Then covered with newsprint - and lies
For who would do that to a tree lifting its head to the skies
Rooted in centuries, telling tall tales and breathing a green lullaby
Progress is all very well
But not when it chops down our dreams
And it's hard to feel at ease in a world
Where nothing is quite what it seems
Whoever invented South African policemen ought to be licked into shape
Toughened and trained till the body's a cane
Till the arms are a chain, till the nerves feel no pain
Till obedience rules and encircles the brain
With walls - so he'll never escape
For who would do that to a child jumping with joy and desire
Floating in fantasy, drowning in dreams, brimming with fun and with fire
Progress is all very well
But not when it locks up our dreams
And it's hard to feel at ease in a world
Where nothing is quite what it seems
What it seems
Where nothing is quite what it seems
BILD-Zeitung - German tabloid in the mould of The Sun or News of the World
(as sung by Iain MacKintosh)