lirik lagu stig of the dump - big city blues
as i walk through a maze of the city’s coldest buildings/
she starts singin a song to her forgotten homeless children/
a lullaby full of car alarms and sirens/
in a city that never sleeps, where streets are never silent/
where night life’s vibrant and rife with trouble/
as the bricks breath heavy as if theyre ready to crumble/
the walls may have ears but n0body else is listening/
as the beast prowel freely to steal their next victim/
faces fade and disappeared into the distance/
drug abusers lose to the pressures of existence/
resistance is futile, there’s nothing to do/
in the end we all suffer from big city blues/
and so theres crews of dudes sitting sipping and sniffing/
cos in the city sins are never forgotten and less forgiven/
when ya living in a world that’s full of high rise dreams/
and the sound of passing traffic drowns out silent screams/
ultra violent scenes, in a world thats clock work/
where money oils the pockets that make the cogs turn/
nocturnal workers burn their herbs after dark/
i take my place with the strays and serenade the stars/
scratched hook “its economics…………… can’t stop it”
the big city, wear depressions generic/
it seems that inner city stress is a national epidemic/
grey clouds loom until the towns silhouetted/
where times are hard, n0body wants to let ya forget it/
where street lamps battle with the dark of the night/
and street corner stars work and hustle in the twilight/
lifetimes finite, so everyone meets defeat/
and battle scars are rapidly camoflaged by the concrete
a complete image of life in a snapshot/
where innocence is lost into an inner city backdrop/
cop shops are full up, but pockets are empty/
you want green your out of luck, but look for brown & there’s plenty/
rush hours a frenzy of 9 to 5ers/
an exodus of bodies, who’s eyes are lifeless/
and everyone escape with a little bit of r.e.m
until they wake and realise where they are again/
and your all part of them, cursed by the mind state/
comatose midweek, alive on a friday/
i’m a modern man behind the eyes of a primate/
i still sing the big city blues but do it my way/
scratched hook “its economics…………… can’t stop it”
no matter what your post code, your dresscode or age is/
race, faith, your gender or family name is/
we all enter the matrix on a daily basis/
the situation stays the same and nothing ever changes/
city life is grim and strife is just part of the day to day/
women paint their face and men shave with the latest razor blades/
waiting for the weekend to come, so they can waste their pay/
forgetting ’bout the routine they go through to make a wage/
many blaze a jay, sedate and take away the pain/
aching as their hope for change fl!ckers like a naked flame /
brains decay and motivation fades from the monotony/
as workers huddle home to the subtle tone of forgotton dreams/
back to tv dinners and kipping in rotting properties/
scared to break out ’cause passion isn’t office policy/
colonies of metal beasts face off in congestion/
as whordes of worker ants surge in ranks towards redemption/
scratched hook “its economics…………… can’t stop it”
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