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A Fine Career Lyrics

The councilor comes with his battered old suit
And his head all filled with plans
Says "It's not for myself, for the fame or wealth
But to help my fellow man."
Fist in the air and the first to stand
When the Internationale plays
Says "We'll break down the walls of the old Town Hall
And we'll fight all the lifelong day!"
Ten years later where is he now?
He's ditched all the old ideas
Milked all the life from the old cash cow
Now he's got a fine career
Now he's got a fine career.
Now this is a song written for Robb Johnson to sing - no-one does pub piano singalong like Robb. Just the thing for that post-Brentford footie match Class War meeting.
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The Boy Bands Have Won, and All the Copyists and the Tribute Bands and the TV Talent Show Producers Have Won, If We Allow Our Culture to Be Shaped by Mimicry, Whether from Lack of Ideas or From Exaggerated Respect. You Should Never Try to Freeze Culture. What You Can Do Is Recycle That Culture. Take Your Older Brother's Hand-Me-Down Jacket and Re-Style It, Re-Fashion It to the Point Where It Becomes Your Own. But Don't Just Regurgitate Creative History, or Hold Art and Music and Literature as Fixed, Untouchable and Kept Under Glass. The People Who Try to 'Guard' Any Particular Form of Music Are, Like the Copyists and Manufactured Bands, Doing It the Worst Disservice, Because the Only Thing That You Can Do to Music That Will Damage It Is Not Change It, Not Make It Your Own. Because Then It Dies, Then It's Over, Then It's Done, and the Boy Bands Have Won. (2008)