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  • Roger Waters
    Miscellaneous
    Home
    [Jim:] "Oh, God!"
    [Californian Weirdo:] "Sole has no eyes."
    Could be Jerusalem
    Or it could be Cairo
    Could be Berlin
    Or it could be Prague
    Could be Moscow
    Could be New York
    Could be Llanelli
    And it could be Warrington
    Could be Warsaw
    And it could be Moose Jaw
    Could be Rome
    Everybody got somewhere they call home
    When they overrun the defences
    A minor invasion put down to expenses
    Will you go down to the airport lounge
    Will you accept your second class status
    A nation of waitresses and waiters
    Will you mix their martinis
    Will you stand still for it
    Or will you take to the hills
    It could be clay
    And it could be sand
    Could be desert
    Could be a tract of arable land
    Could be a house
    Could be a corner shop
    Could be a cabin by a bend in the river
    Could be something your old man handed down
    Could be something you built on your own
    Everybody got something he calls home
    When the cowboys and Arabs draw down
    On each other at noon
    In the cool dusty air of the city boardroom
    Will you stand by a passive spectator
    Of the market dictators
    Will you discreetly withdraw
    With your ear pressed to the boardroom door
    Will you hear when the lion within you roars
    Will you take to the hills
    Will you stand
    Will you stand for it
    Will you hear when the lion within you roars
    Could be your father
    And it could be your mother
    Could be your sister
    Could be your brother
    Could be a foreigner
    Could be a Turk
    Could be someone out looking for work
    Could be a king
    Could be the Aga khan
    Could be a Vietnam vet with no arms and no legs
    Could be a saint
    Could be a sinner
    Could be a loser
    Or it could be a winner
    Could be a banker
    Could be a baker
    Could be a Laker
    Could be Kareem Abdul Jabar
    Could be a male voice choir
    Could be a lover
    Could be a fighter
    Could be a super heavyweight
    Or it could be something lighter
    Could be a cripple
    Could be a freak
    Could be a wop, gook, geek
    Could be a cop
    Could be a thief
    Could be a family of ten living in one room on relief
    Could be our leaders in their concrete tombs
    With their tinned food and their silver spoons
    Could be the pilot with God on his side
    Could be the kid in the middle of the bomb sight
    Could be a fanatic
    Could be a terrorist
    Could be a dentist
    Could be a psychiatrist
    Could be humble
    Could be proud
    Could be a face in the crowd
    Could be the soldier in the white cravat
    Who turns the key in spite of the fact
    That this is the end of the cat and mouse
    Who dwelt in the house
    Where the laughter rang and the tears were spilt
    The house that Jack built
    Where the laughter rang and the tears were spilt
    The house that Jack built
    Bang, bang, shoot, shoot
    White gloved thumb
    Lord thy will be done
    He was always a good boy his mother said
    He'll do his duty when he's grown
    Yeah
    Everybody's got someone they call home
  • Roger Waters
    Miscellaneous
    Home
    [Jim:] "Oh, God!"
    [Californian Weirdo:] "Sole has no eyes."
    Could be Jerusalem
    Or it could be Cairo
    Could be Berlin
    Or it could be Prague
    Could be Moscow
    Could be New York
    Could be Llanelli
    And it could be Warrington
    Could be Warsaw
    And it could be Moose Jaw
    Could be Rome
    Everybody got somewhere they call home
    When they overrun the defences
    A minor invasion put down to expenses
    Will you go down to the airport lounge
    Will you accept your second class status
    A nation of waitresses and waiters
    Will you mix their martinis
    Will you stand still for it
    Or will you take to the hills
    It could be clay
    And it could be sand
    Could be desert
    Could be a tract of arable land
    Could be a house
    Could be a corner shop
    Could be a cabin by a bend in the river
    Could be something your old man handed down
    Could be something you built on your own
    Everybody got something he calls home
    When the cowboys and Arabs draw down
    On each other at noon
    In the cool dusty air of the city boardroom
    Will you stand by a passive spectator
    Of the market dictators
    Will you discreetly withdraw
    With your ear pressed to the boardroom door
    Will you hear when the lion within you roars
    Will you take to the hills
    Will you stand
    Will you stand for it
    Will you hear when the lion within you roars
    Could be your father
    And it could be your mother
    Could be your sister
    Could be your brother
    Could be a foreigner
    Could be a Turk
    Could be someone out looking for work
    Could be a king
    Could be the Aga khan
    Could be a Vietnam vet with no arms and no legs
    Could be a saint
    Could be a sinner
    Could be a loser
    Or it could be a winner
    Could be a banker
    Could be a baker
    Could be a Laker
    Could be Kareem Abdul Jabar
    Could be a male voice choir
    Could be a lover
    Could be a fighter
    Could be a super heavyweight
    Or it could be something lighter
    Could be a cripple
    Could be a freak
    Could be a wop, gook, geek
    Could be a cop
    Could be a thief
    Could be a family of ten living in one room on relief
    Could be our leaders in their concrete tombs
    With their tinned food and their silver spoons
    Could be the pilot with God on his side
    Could be the kid in the middle of the bomb sight
    Could be a fanatic
    Could be a terrorist
    Could be a dentist
    Could be a psychiatrist
    Could be humble
    Could be proud
    Could be a face in the crowd
    Could be the soldier in the white cravat
    Who turns the key in spite of the fact
    That this is the end of the cat and mouse
    Who dwelt in the house
    Where the laughter rang and the tears were spilt
    The house that Jack built
    Where the laughter rang and the tears were spilt
    The house that Jack built
    Bang, bang, shoot, shoot
    White gloved thumb
    Lord thy will be done
    He was always a good boy his mother said
    He'll do his duty when he's grown
    Yeah
    Everybody's got someone they call home