Lyrics Europe Is Lost - Kate Tempest
Europe
is
lost,
America
lost,
London
lost
Still
we
are
clamouring
victory
All
that
is
meaningless
rules
We
have
learned
nothing
from
history
The
people
are
dead
in
their
lifetimes
Dazed
in
the
shine
of
the
streets
But
look
how
the
traffic's
still
moving
System's
too
slick
to
stop
working
Business
is
good,
and
there's
bands
every
night
in
the
pubs
And
there's
two
for
one
drinks
in
the
clubs
And
we
scrubbed
up
well
Washed
off
the
work
and
the
stress
And
now
all
we
want's
some
excess
Better
yet,
a
night
to
remember
that
we'll
soon
forget
All
of
the
blood
that
was
bled
for
these
cities
to
grow
All
of
the
bodies
that
fell
The
roots
that
were
dug
from
the
earth
So
these
games
could
be
played
I
see
it
tonight
in
the
stains
on
my
hands
The
buildings
are
screaming
I
can't
ask
for
help
though,
nobody
knows
me
Hostile,
worried,
lonely
We
move
in
our
packs
and
these
are
the
rights
we
were
born
to
Working
and
working
so
we
can
be
all
that
we
want
Then
dancing
the
drudgery
off
But
even
the
drugs
have
got
boring
Well,
sex
is
still
good
when
you
get
it
To
sleep,
to
dream,
to
keep
the
dream
in
reach
To
each
a
dream,
don't
weep,
don't
scream
Just
keep
it
in,
keep
sleeping
in
What
am
I
gonna
do
to
wake
up?
I
feel
the
cost
of
it
pushing
my
body
Like
I
push
my
hands
into
pockets
And
softly
I
walk
and
I
see
it,
this
is
all
we
deserve
The
wrongs
of
our
past
have
resurfaced
Despite
all
we
did
to
vanquish
the
traces
My
very
language
is
tainted
With
all
that
we
stole
to
replace
it
with
this
I
am
quiet
Feeling
the
onset
of
riot
Riots
are
tiny,
though
Systems
are
huge
Traffic
keeps
moving,
proving
there's
nothing
to
do
'Cause
it's
big
business,
baby,
and
its
smile
is
hideous
Top
down
violence,
and
structural
viciousness
Your
kids
are
dosed
up
on
medical
sedatives
But
don't
worry
'bout
that,
man,
worry
'bout
terrorists
The
water
level's
rising!
The
water
level's
rising!
The
animals,
the
elephants,
the
polarbears
are
dying!
Stop
crying,
start
buying,
but
what
about
the
oil
spill?
Shh,
no
one
likes
a
party
pooping
spoil
sport
Massacres,
massacres,
massacres,
new
shoes
Ghettoised
children
murdered
in
broad
daylight
By
those
employed
to
protect
them
Live
porn
streamed
to
your
pre-teens'
bedrooms
Glass
ceiling,
no
headroom
Half
a
generation
live
beneath
the
breadline
Oh,
but
it's
happy
hour
on
the
high
street
Friday
night
at
last
lads,
my
treat!
All
went
fine
'til
that
kid
got
glassed
in
the
last
bar
Place
went
nuts,
you
can
ask
our
Lou
It
was
madness,
road
ran
red,
pure
claret
And
about
them
immigrants?
I
can't
stand
them
Mostly,
I
mind
my
own
business
They're
only
coming
over
here
to
get
rich,
it's
a
sickness
England!
England!
Patriotism!
And
you
wonder
why
kids
want
to
die
for
religion?
It
goes
work
all
your
life
for
a
pittance
Maybe
you'll
make
it
to
manager,
pray
for
a
raise
Cross
the
beige
days
off
on
your
beach
babe
calendar
The
anarchists
are
desperate
for
something
to
smash
Scandalous
pictures
of
fashionable
rappers
In
glamourous
magazines,
who's
dating
who?
Politico
cash
in
an
envelope
Caught
sniffing
lines
off
a
prostitutes
prosthetic
tits
Now
it's
back
to
the
House
of
Lords
with
slapped
wrists
They
abduct
kids
who
fuck
the
heads
of
dead
pigs
But
him
in
a
hoodie
with
a
couple
of
spliffs
Jail
him,
he's
the
criminal
Jail
him,
he's
the
criminal
It's
the
bored-of-it-all
generation
The
product
of
product
placement
and
manipulation
Shoot
'em
up,
brutal,
duty
of
care
Come
on,
new
shoes,
beautiful
hair,
bullshit
Saccharine
ballads
and
selfies
and
selfies
and
selfies
And
here's
me
outside
the
palace
of
me
Construct
a
self
and
psyhcosis
Meanwhile
the
people
were
dead
in
their
droves
And
no,
nobody
noticed,
well,
some
of
them
noticed
You
could
tell
by
the
emoji
they
posted
Sleep
like
a
gloved
hand
covers
our
eyes
The
lights
are
so
nice
and
bright
and
let's
dream
But
some
of
us
are
stuck
like
stones
in
a
slipstream
What
am
I
gonna
do
to
wake
up?
We
are
lost,
we
are
lost,
we
are
lost
And
still
nothing
will
stop,
nothing
pauses
We
have
ambitions
and
friendships
and
our
courtships
to
think
of
Divorces
to
drink
off
the
thought
of
The
money,
the
money,
the
oil
The
planet
is
shaking
and
spoiled
And
life
is
a
plaything
A
garment
to
soil
The
toil,
the
toil
I
can't
see
an
ending
at
all
Only
the
end
How
is
this
something
to
cherish?
When
the
tribesmen
are
dead
in
their
deserts
To
make
room
for
alien
structures
Develop,
develop
And
kill
what
you
find
if
it
threatens
you
No
trace
of
love
in
the
hunt
for
the
bigger
buck
Here
in
the
land
where
nobody
gives
a
fuck
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