Silken ties and velvet threads Greasy hands and sticky beds Charity for sale inside And pockets that are deep and wide She's a picture of grace and style He's a thug with a winning smile High society on the town Shaking everybody down Don't ask what they're up to And don't look over there You think this is your land So brightly unaware Happy stories on your TV show And we're all in this thing together Hide our faces From the modern world And we live like this forever City swank and country life Vicious husband, brutal wife Big donations and hearts and prayers And armaments and weapons fairs She's a highly respected source He's a fan of excessive force Top professionals on the make And friends and family on the take It's our very special place We hide away here Don't ask what they're up to And don't look over there You think this is your land So numbly unaware Happy stories on your TV show And we're all in this thing together Hide our faces from the ruling class And they live like that forever Golden braid and jewellery Defenders of democracy Secret agents who kill and lie Dirty laundry piled high and dry She's a valued authority He's a mess of conspiracy Selfless servants, the good and great And rich rewards for those who wait Welcome to your special place We built it all for you
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A golden couple, out on the town. It's all for charity, so don't ask any questions. They earned their privileges. And you know your place. They built it just for you. From the KENTISH TOWN album.