A Town Called Malice.
Better stop dreaming of the quiet life -
cos it's the one we'll never know
And quit running for that runaway bus -
cos those rosey days are few
And - stop apologising for the things you've never done,
Cos time is short and life is cruel -
but it's up to us to change
This town called malice.
Rows and rows of disused milk floats
stand dying in the dairy yard
And a hundred lonely housewives clutch empty milk
bottles to their hearts
Hanging out their old love letters on the line to dry
It's enough to make you stop believing when tears come
fast and furious
In a town called malice.
Struggle after struggle - year after year
The atmosphere's a fine blend of ice -
I'm almost stone cold dead
In a town called malice.
A whole street's belief in Sunday's roast beef
gets dashed against the Co-op
To either cut down on beer or the kids new gear
It's a big decision in a town called malice.
The ghost of a steam train - echoes down my track
It's at the moment bound for nowhere -
just going round and round
Playground kids and creaking swings -
lost laughter in the breeze
I could go on for hours and I probably will -
but I'd sooner put some joy back
In this town called malice.
Start.
It's not important for you to know my name -
Nor I to know yours
If we communicate for two minutes only
It will be enough
For knowing that someone in this world
Feels as desperate as me -
And what you give is what you get.
It doesn't matter if we never meet again,
What we have said will always remain.
If we get through for two minutes only,
It will be a start!
For knowing that someone in this life,
Loves with a passion called hate
And what you give is what you get.
If I never ever see you -
If I never ever see you -
If I never ever see you - again.
And what you give is what you get!
In The City" took The Jam into the UK Top 40 for the first time in May 1977, and although every subsequent single had a placing within the Top 40, it would take another two years and eight singles before they were sufficiently engrained in the British national consciousness for "The Eton Rifles" to break the Top 10, hitting the No. 3 spot in November 1979.
In the City.
The Eton Rifles. In 1980 they hit number one for the first time with what many believe to be the definitive Paul Weller song, "Going Underground", which was to become in effect the band's signature tune. A popular story has it that hitting the charts at all was in fact an accident for "Going Underground": it was supposed to be a double A side with "Dreams of Children", a less-remembered song, but a mistake at a French pressing plant meant "Going Underground" was given 'A' status on the label. Whether this is true or apocryphal is not known, but whatever the case, after "Going Underground", The Jam - and Weller in particular - were UK superstars. Going Underground.
But whenever I approach you, you make me look a fool
I wanna say, I wanna tell you
About the young ideas
But you turn them into fears
In the city there's a thousand faces all shining bright
And those golden faces are under 25
They wanna say, they gonna tell ya
About the young idea
You better listen now you've said your bit-a
And I know what you're thinking
You still think I am crap
But you'd better listen man
Because the kids know where it's at
In the city there's a thousand men in uniforms
And I've heard they now have the right to kill a man
We wanna say, we gonna tell ya
About the young idea
And if it don't work, at least we said we've tried
In the city, in the city
In the city there's a thousand things I want to say to you
Sup up your beer and collect your fags -
There's a row going on down near Slough.
Get out your mat and pray to the West.
I'll get out mine and pray for myself.
Thought you were smart when you took them on,
But you didn't take a peep in their artillery room.
All that rugby puts hairs on your chest.
What chance have you got against a tie and a crest?
Hello-Hurrah - what a nice day for the Eton Rifles.
Hello-Hurrah - I hope rain stops play for the Eton Rifles.
Thought you were clever when you lit the fuse,
Tore down the house of commons in your brand new shoes,
Composed a revolutionary symphony,
Then went to bed with a charming young thing.
Hello-Hurrah - cheers then, mate. It's the Eton Rifles.
Hello-Hurrah - an extremist scrape with the Eton Rifles.
What a catalyst you turned out to be:
Loaded the guns, then you run off home for your tea -
Left me standing like a guilty schoolboy...
What a catalyst you turned out to be:
Loaded the guns, then you run off home for your tea -
Left me standing like a naughty schoolboy...
We came out of it naturally the worst:
Beaten and bloody, and I was sick down my shirt.
We were no match for their untamed wit,
Though some of the lads said they'd be back next week.
Hello-Hurrah - it's the price to price to pay to the Eton Rifles.
Hello-Hurrah - I'd prefer the plague to the Eton Rifles.
Hello-Hurrah - it's the price to pay to the Eton Rifles.
Hello-Hurrah - I'd prefer the plague to the Eton Rifles.
Some people might say my life is in a rut,
But I'm quite happy with what I got
People might say that I should strive for more,
But I'm so happy I can't see the point.
Somethings happening here today
A show of strength with your boy's brigade and,
I'm so happy and you're so kind
You want more money - of course I don't mind
To buy nuclear textbooks for atomic crimes
And the public gets what the public wants
But I want nothing this society's got -
I'm going underground, (going underground)
Well the brass bands play and feet start to pound
Going underground, (going underground)
Well let the boys all sing and the boys all shout for tomorrow
Some people might get some pleasure out of hate
Me, I've enough already on my plate
People might need some tension to relax
[Me?] I'm too busy dodging between the flak
What you see is what you get
You've made your bed, you better lie in it
You choose your leaders and place your trust
As their lies wash you down and their promises rust
You'll see kidney machines replaced by rockets and guns
And the public wants what the public gets
But I don't get what this society wants
I'm going underground, (going underground)
Well the brass bands play and feet start to pound
Going underground, (going underground)
[So] let the boys all sing and the boys all shout for tomorrow
We talk and talk until my head explodes
I turn on the news and my body froze
The braying sheep on my TV screen
Make this boy shout, make this boy scream!
Going underground, I'm going underground!
