Pulp - Deep Fried In Kelvin Lyrics
Oh children of the future ... conceived in the toilets at meadowhall ... to be raised onThe cheap cold slabs of garage floors ... rolling empty cans down the stairway ... (dontYou love that sound? ) ... whilst the thoughts of a bad social worker ran through his head... trying to remember what he learnt at training college ... lester said he wasntAllowed in here ... so why dont you get lost? ... and if you grow up ... then when youGrow up, maybe ... maybe you can live ... live on kelvin ... yeah you can live in kelvin... on the promenade with the concrete walkways ... where pidgeons go to die ... (a womanOn the fourteenth floor noticed that the ceiling was bulging as if under a great weight.When the council investigated they discovered that the man in the flat above hadTransported a large quantity of soil into his living-room, in which several plants he hadStolen from a local park were growing. when questioned, the man said all he wanted was aGarden. when questioned, the man said all he wanted was a garden.) ... oh god, I think theFutures been fried ... deep fried in kelvin ... and now its rotting behind the remainsOf a stolen motorbike ... I havent touched it, honest ... but there isnt anything elseTo do ... we dont need your sad attempts at social conscience based on taxi-rides home atNight when exhibition opens ... we just want your car radio ... and those reflux speakers... now ... suffer the little children to come to me ... and I will tend their adventurePlayground splinters with cigarette burns and feed them fizzy orange and chips ... andThen they grow up straight and tall ... and then they grow up to live ... on kelvin ...Yeah ... we can have ghettos too ... only we use air-rifles instead of machine-guns ...Stitch that ... and we drunk driving lights ... in the end ... the question you have toAsk yourself is ... are you talking to me ... or are you chewing a brick?
