Bad Nite at the Mustache

My name is Charlie Damage and my light has been erased by a confederacy of knob heads My name is Charlie Damage and my light has been erased And the present wants to make a memory of the future The present wants to make a memory of the future Life is always cheap, always led by the creeps And the high street Kali-Yuga is descending down on ya Here comes another burning tower block filled with screaming ghosts It's what they fear the most The manager will see you now, so wipe the fear from your brow Walk out the door and start to howl But you never had a chance against a nation of drug counsellors, chat show chances, bystanders of disaster, tax dodgers, bitter old codgers, trigger happy soldiers, golden generation hoarders and all those tired dumb fuckers So cauterize the wounds our stupidity has caused us Cauterize the wounds with something like fire And sunlight and magic and love The routine march of the correctly dressed The puffed out chest of the stronger sex The Victorian bomb of the Christian blessed The bed by 10 of the if-not-now-then-when You're not evil, you're just scared and dumb, dumb, dumb Desperate to be no-one, no-one To fade into wallpaper, let culture become vapour Do as you're told, quickly grow old Sink into the fold, ignore the stench of mould And you are progress in reverse You are daily mailes, hoodies and squaddies, village busy bodies, osbornes and savilles, Brexit selfish tories, and coppers, and landlords and bomb droppers So cauterize the wounds our religion has caused us So cauterize the wounds with something like fire And sunlight and magic and love My name is David Nothing and my light is still erased And if we all spit together we can drown the bastards Because the structure just devours concretes over flowers And the past wants to make a memory of the future The past wants to make a memory, a memory of the future So you know you wanna make the world proud or burn it to the ground You wanna make the world proud or burn it to the ground It's 30 years later in your 10th worthless job Waves rush over and break and something inside dies You drink to fill the empty well as your life becomes a prison cell Of flats getting smaller, your frame getting thinner, your eyes getting duller, a light lost forever You are housewives and packers and postmen and plumbers and midwives, van drivers, shoplifters and losers and sinners and bruisers and anarchists and schemers and daydreamers And I want to believe you won't spend your life on your knees And I need to believe you won't spend your life on your knees Torn up and unseen, don't spend your life on your knees Each generation finds a way to kill the brave and the strange So don't spend your life on your knees Don't spend your life on your knees My name is Charlie Damage, they say remember not to back down But the past wants to make a memory of the future