English Boy (Reprise) - Pete Townshend
I was an English boy I was brought up right You could hold me down And I would bite I knew no fear I served with joy I was proud to be here An English boy You spray like a tomcat Piss like a stray dog Swear like a sailor Speaking in gang tongues Kicking in chorus Stabbing to order Slashing like a blind man Lost like a soldier I was an English boy Precisely made You could pin me down I was not afraid I showed no fear And I served with joy I was so proud to be here An English boy Blurred like a movie Gray under streetlights Gray in the sunshine So black on the tube line White on the touchline Moving like a fever Spreading like an oil slick Thicker than a house brick I was an English boy I was brought up right If you raised your dress And I would bite My voice was clear I had perfect poise Was good to be down here With all the English boys And I don't know where I am now Or where I'm gonna go I keep going round and round on the circle line Like some demented kind of commuta Trying to avoid paying for my ticket I'm a lost soul I read about myself in the newspapers I'm a pig I'm a thug I've got nowhere to go but down (guitar solo) Stand up, when I'm talking to you boy Stand up, when I'm talking to you boy Stand up! Stand up! Stand up! Stand up! Stand up! Slow like a prejudice Broken like hatred Kicking at a dead man Cut pieces to pieces Marking your territory Freezing the future Stopping the stopwatch I am despairing I was an English boy I was brought up right You could hold me down And I would bite I knew no fear And I served with joy I was proud to be here An English boy I was an English boy Yes I was I was an English boy I was an English boy I was an English boy I was an English boy I was an English boy I was an English boy I was an English boy Ray addresses the audience Ray: "Gridlife" was a vision, a real vision. Not a fiction, not a fairy tale, a glimpse of the future. Today, twenty years later, the apocalypse it foresaw is nearer. But, whatever you read in the newspapers, we still don't have any alternative reality. It's all games now: all lies and deceit. What happened to the truth? What happened to the dream? What happened to all that lovely hippy shit?
Artist: Pete Townshend
Title: English Boy (Reprise)