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Bread And Circuses Lyrics
It's time to celebrate
To come out and play-
We've been counting down the days.
This weekend we've got a bank holiday!
We're as sick with expectation
As we are with what we're escaping.
Lock up the house, load up the car,
We've twnty-four hours to spend
In the goddamn theme park.
We are so grateful for our new
State funded stately pleasure dome
Shock and awe and
An over-priced gift-shop-
You didn't have fun if
You didn't buy the T-Shirt.
Paying through the nose so you can
Prick-tease your animal instincts.
Art starts to imitate life in the factory;
The factory's a prison,
So art is seen to atrophy-
All our days off in front of the TV
Instead of a stock screen
We just commute from one end of
The conveyor belt to the other.
Oh, the kids who would've led
The unions in the past
Now grow up staying silent in
Darkened cinemas.
If every hour that I have spent
Stuck in a circus
Was spent learning a language,.
I'd have so much more to say.
And if every penny that I have spent
On processed bread
Was spent on growing my own food,
My skin wouldn't look so grey.
Work and rest and play safe in the
Knowledge that there is no other way
The hand that feeds chooses the menu,
But I'm a fussy eater.
Work rest and decay.
Our commodity a day will
Keep subversive daydreams away.
To come out and play-
We've been counting down the days.
This weekend we've got a bank holiday!
We're as sick with expectation
As we are with what we're escaping.
Lock up the house, load up the car,
We've twnty-four hours to spend
In the goddamn theme park.
We are so grateful for our new
State funded stately pleasure dome
Shock and awe and
An over-priced gift-shop-
You didn't have fun if
You didn't buy the T-Shirt.
Paying through the nose so you can
Prick-tease your animal instincts.
Art starts to imitate life in the factory;
The factory's a prison,
So art is seen to atrophy-
All our days off in front of the TV
Instead of a stock screen
We just commute from one end of
The conveyor belt to the other.
Oh, the kids who would've led
The unions in the past
Now grow up staying silent in
Darkened cinemas.
If every hour that I have spent
Stuck in a circus
Was spent learning a language,.
I'd have so much more to say.
And if every penny that I have spent
On processed bread
Was spent on growing my own food,
My skin wouldn't look so grey.
Work and rest and play safe in the
Knowledge that there is no other way
The hand that feeds chooses the menu,
But I'm a fussy eater.
Work rest and decay.
Our commodity a day will
Keep subversive daydreams away.
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Man the screaming at the end of this is pretty intense. Good song too.
Man the screaming at the end of this is pretty intense. Good song too.
DOUBLE POST
OK... Let's begin!
Bread and Circuses is referring to the idea that all the Roman public needed to keep them from expressing discontent en masse was "bread and circuses", and the song's theme is how "circuses" (a metaphor in this context) are methods of socio-political control.
This song starts off a reference to the concept of the bank holiday. Frank says that we're all sick of work, and so desperately look forward to our time off that the anticipation in itself causes almost as much discomfort/etc as the work we're doing while we anticipate it.
He then laments the fact that this twenty-four hour period away from the slavery of work is spent in an environment geared entirely toward over-consumption and frivolous waste ("you didn't have fun if you didnt buy the tshirt" and "an over-priced gift shop")
"Art starts to imitate life in the factory" while our leisure time starts to imitate our work time; this parallel leads to the loss of meaning in both art and leisure as they're subsumed into the Capitalist system as merely means of improving productivity, and therefore are made more uniform, less spontaneous, etc.
Then "Oh the kids... in darkened cinemas" is complaining about the loss of any large-scale protest movement, organisation against Capitalism, etc due to the fact that the younger generations have been 'brainwashed' or into placidly accepting the status quo.
"If every hour that I have spent stuck in a circus..." points out how much time has been wasted in Frank's life, and all of our lives, simply trying to make our way through the maze of modern life - TV, bank holidays, school, work, all prevent us from thinking, learning, reading, etc.
He then criticises the market's tendency to produce low-quality, safe, uniform goods ("maybe my skin wouldn't look so grey"). He finishes the song by stating his objection to the only way of living offered by Capitalist commercialism/consumerism ("the hand that feeds chooses the menu, but i'm a fussy eater"), and that the reason it does so is, returning to the theme of the entire song, to ensure control ("will keep subversive dreams away").
OK... Let's begin!
Bread and Circuses is referring to the idea that all the Roman public needed to keep them from expressing discontent en masse was "bread and circuses", and the song's theme is how "circuses" (a metaphor in this context) are methods of socio-political control.
This song starts off a reference to the concept of the bank holiday. Frank says that we're all sick of work, and so desperately look forward to our time off that the anticipation in itself causes almost as much discomfort/etc as the work we're doing while we anticipate it.
He then laments the fact that this twenty-four hour period away from the slavery of work is spent in an environment geared entirely toward over-consumption and frivolous waste ("you didn't have fun if you didnt buy the tshirt" and "an over-priced gift shop")
"Art starts to imitate life in the factory" while our leisure time starts to imitate our work time; this parallel leads to the loss of meaning in both art and leisure as they're subsumed into the Capitalist system as merely means of improving productivity, and therefore are made more uniform, less spontaneous, etc.
Then "Oh the kids... in darkened cinemas" is complaining about the loss of any large-scale protest movement, organisation against Capitalism, etc due to the fact that the younger generations have been 'brainwashed' or recuperated into placidly accepting the status quo.
"If every hour that I have spent stuck in a circus..." points out how much time has been wasted in Frank's life, and all of our lives, simply trying to make our way through the maze of modern life - TV, bank holidays, school, work, all prevent us from thinking, learning, reading, etc.
He then criticises the market's tendency to produce low-quality, safe, uniform goods ("maybe my skin wouldn't look so grey"). He finishes the song by stating his objection to the only way of living offered by Capitalist commercialism/consumerism ("the hand that feeds chooses the menu, but i'm a fussy eater"), and that the reason it does so is, returning to the theme of the entire song, to ensure control ("will keep subversive dreams away").