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The Fall

The Fall are an English post-punk band, formed in Prestwich, Greater Manchester, in 1976. With an ever-changing line up, the group essentially consists of its founder and only constant member, Mark E. Smith, who has said "If it's me and your granny on bongos, then it's [the] Fall". First associated with the late 1970s punk movement, the band's music has evolved through numerous stylistic changes, often concurrently with changes in the group's membership. The Fall's music is characterised by repetition, an abrasive guitar-driven sound, and is always underpinned by Smith's often cryptic lyrics, described by critic Steve Huey as "abstract poetry filled with complicated wordplay, bone-dry wit, cutting social observations, and general misanthropy." more »

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The tables covered in beer
Showbiz whines, minute detail
Its a hand on the shoulder in Leicester Square
Its vaudeville pub back room dusty pictures of
White frocked girls and music teachers
The beds too clean
The waters poison for the system

Then you know in your brain
LEAVE THE CAPITOL!
EXIT THIS ROMAN SHELL!
Then you know you must leave the capitol
Straight home
Straight home
Straight home
One room, one room
Then you know in your brain
You know in your brain
LEAVE THE CAPITOL!
EXIT THIS ROMAN SHELL!

Then you know you must leave the capitol
Straight home
Straight home
Straight home
Then you know in your brain
You know in your brain
Leave The Capitol!
Then you know you must leave the capitol

It will not drag me down
I will leave this ten times town
I will leave this fucking dump
One room, one room

Hotel maids smile in unison
Then you know in your brain
You know in your brain
LEAVE THE CAPITOL
EXIT THIS ROMAN SHELL
Then you know you must leave the capitol

I laughed at the great God Pan
I didnae, I didnae
I laughed at the great god Pan
I didnae, I didnae, I didnae, I didnae

LEAVE THE CAPTIOL
EXIT THE ROMAN SHELL
Then you know you must leave the capitol

Pan resides in welsh green masquerades
On welsh cat caravans
But the monty
Hides in curtains
Grey blackish cream
All the paintings you recall
All the side stepped cars
All the brutish laughs
From the flat and the wild dog downstairs

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