about
Written by Colm Hall
Produced by Ciaran McCreary
Recorded in RedCap Studios
lyrics
Oh stop complaining, and pay back the money
Your country now owes as it goes down the swanee
It’s all our fault, though we’ll never acknowledge it
You won’t even get so much as an apology
Wipe our hands clean, and be done with the guilt
Why should we cry over milk that we’ve spilt?
We’re hardly to blame, I mean really, in fairness
You’d have to have some kind of basic awareness
Of finance and credit, sustainable markets
While we pegged our eggs all into one basket
And if the effects of our bets are disastrous,
And we make a mess someone else will clean after us
CHORUS
So, stick your fingers in your ears
And sing so you can’t hear
And everything just disappears
Sit back and relax as our nation goes under
Reflect how we wrecked it and tore it asunder
Ponder who squandered the revenue’s coffers
Wonder who plundered the property profits
The budgets we bought like we thought it was Christmas
We borrowed for buildings like nobody’s business
Purchasing property ten times our salary
A nation embracing collective insanity
But, your loans are your own, whereas ours are communal
And so are the legal fees for the tribunal
To unravel the baffling hows and the whys and
fathom the reasons we rezoned the island
CHORUS
It’s great that the state has accepted our offer
To pay back our debts until we’re back in profit
We chanced our arm, and the idiots bought it
And then put our other hand into your pockets
The masses of asses will pay off our losses
They’ll get the debt from the wealth we made off with
The plebs and the proles will return you to office
The deficit grows, who knows what it’ll cost us
By us, I mean you and the struggling classes
We’ll wine and dine as the country collapses
We splashed the cash and devalued our assets
Now you’re all smashed, but the backlash was half-assed
CHORUS
The best thing of all now the government own us is
When we were fired we got six figure bonuses.
Secrets we’d leak we will now keep in confidence
Rest assured, we’ll reward our incompetence
Not to mention the pensions we got for our uselessness
Corners we cut with cute tax elusiveness
Books that we cooked, and our bogus balances
Funds that we funnelled, expense account allowances
(When) we’re back in the black, then we’ll resume our autonomy
(We’ll) self-regulate; this time we’ll do it honestly
(We’ll) make ourselves rich and this time we’ll keep it
By us, we mean us; and not you, nor the people
CHORUS
Stick your fingers in your ears
And sing so you can’t hear
And everything just disappears
So sing la lala lalalalalalalalalalalalala
You’ll bear the brunt of the bill for this crisis:
The homes you now own are worth half of their prices
You’re taxed to the max and we’re cutting your benefits
When you’re laid off, you’re paid off with measly severance
We’re proud to announce to a new generation
Our old policy of mass emigration
Let’s go back and do things like we used to
And export our youth and mortgage their futures
Let’s banish our brightest and best from the nation
While the land of their birth is doomed to stagnation
Left in the hands of the morons and muppets
It’s true it’s not new, but it’s all we’ve come up with
CHORUS
Stick your fingers in your ears
And sing so you can’t hear
And everything just disappears
So sing la lala lalalalalalalalalalalalala
I can’t hear, I can’t hear, I can’t hear anything at all
credits
from
The Absolute State of the Nation,
track released December 6, 2010
Colm Hall: guitar, vocals
Ciaran McCreary: percussion, general sainthood
The Mendicants (Marta, Eoin, Denis, And Pj): drunken choirness
license
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